


A Series of Incidents

by Jrade



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: >.>, Awkwardness, Background Emilena, But just toward the end, But mostly toward the start, Developing Relationship, Does it count as slow burn if it takes twenty thousand words?, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humour, It's not super-explicit btw, Matchmaker Tracer, NSFW, Slow Burn, Smut, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jrade/pseuds/Jrade
Summary: Hana "D.Va" Song and Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova have been members of the newly-rebooted Overwatch organization for a little while now. They've been forming friendships and getting familiar with it all for a little while now....they've also been tripping over themselves crushing on each other for a little while now.Sometimes, all it takes is the right moment, the right smile, the right few words. Sometimes it requires a lot of awkward run-ins with wrenches and messy spills and a whole lot of blushing. This would be one of the latter.





	A Series of Incidents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GenderFluidIntake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderFluidIntake/gifts).



> This was made as a Secret Santa gift for the wonderful and talented GenderFluidIntake! If you haven't read any of their works, you're missing out, so go ahead and read some! Don't worry, I'll wait XD

It was what Hana “D.Va” Song would come to think of as “the lifting incident.”

She had been messing around in the hangar, a wrench in hand and grease smeared on her face, nose wrinkled up in concentration as a playlist comprised mostly of neo-dub-sub-pop and Lúcio’s latest album, played through the speakers nearby.

Making a few adjustments to her MEKA’s systems - changing the capacitor charge/discharge rate or making some adjustments to the servo systems. One time she’d even added an array of small missile launchers - she _loved_ those. Any top-tier player knew that rebalances were important, and she had to shift things up every now and then to keep up her competitive edge.

She had one leg hooked around one leg of the mech, her hand bracing against the other one, trying to loosen up a bolt that was up in the underbelly. She grunted and strained with effort, nose wrinkling up more, until she heard a laugh.

At which point she promptly jerked and fell over.

“What- who’s-” she pushed herself half-upright, looking around, and her eyes fell on an offered hand. Zarya’s hand.

Aleksandra Zaryanova, the world’s strongest woman, a fellow member of Overwatch. Also, Hana’s biggest crush at the moment.

Although it was going on long enough that “crush” hardly seemed to cover it anymore.

“Sorry,” Zarya grinned as Hana took her hand (and melted a little bit inside). “I did not mean to frighten you!”

Hana opened her mouth to talk, but what came out instead was a bit of a noise and then just a bubbly laugh. _Come on! Pro face, get your pro face on,_ she berated herself mentally before leaning back nonchalantly against her MEKA.

“Ha! Don’t worry about it - what’s up, ZZ?”

She didn’t cringe at the off-the-cuff nickname, although she _kind of_ wanted to. _ZZ? Why did I say that?!_

Zarya just laughed again though, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I was wondering if there was anything _worthwhile_ to lift in here. The gymnasium here is disappointing at best.”

“Oh, of course,” Hana laughed, looking around. “Uh… well, there’s a couple of Orca thruster pods in those crates over there?” She gestured to a few wooden boxes stacked up against a wall. “They’re pretty heavy. Winston and Reinhardt were double-teaming them earlier.”

_Don’t say double-teaming._

She spun around abruptly, suddenly _very_ interested in finding the wrench that she’d dropped. It definitely wasn’t just a front to hide her sudden blush, no, not at all.

(Except it definitely was.)

“Anyway, um,” she shrugged, “I’m kinda working on some fine-tuning. Gotta keep that edge up, y’know? But hey, don’t be a stranger and stuff, haha! You like the music?”

She glanced over in time to see Zarya, who was already heading over toward the crates, shrug. “It is fine. Music.”

“Ha, yeah,” Hana waved a hand for no reason at all, finally finding her wrench and picking it up. “I like music.” _Yeah, she could probably figure that out from the fact that I’m listening to it. Do I ever shut up? Why do I never shut up?_

As she whined at herself in the silent privacy of her own mind, she wrapped her leg around the MEKA’s leg again and leaned over, snaking her hand up into the underbelly to find that bolt. She pulled, and pulled, and grunted, but to no avail.

“Do you need a hand?”

Hana looked over to see Zarya - holding one of the thruster-pod crates over her head, legs braced wide, muscles _bulging_ and trembling just slightly but looking _very_ stable - smirking smugly back at her.

She almost fell over again.

“Ha, uh… yeah,” she sighed. “I’m just not strong enough to get the bolt loose.”

“Ha!” Zarya tossed her head back for a laugh, then slowly brought the crate down in front of her before lowering it to the ground. She dropped it a half-inch, kicking up a cloud of dust and letting off an impressive thud.

The crates were only a couple of feet in each direction, but they weighed a couple hundred kilos as near as D.Va cared to actually _know_ what they weighed. They weren’t a part for her MEKA, so she didn’t care that much.

Not even though she’d begged Winston to come up with a way to make them cross-compatible - because her MEKA with the Orca’s weight-carrying capacity, or ability for sustained flight? How great would _that_ be?

He’d said no, however, and Hana had quickly lost interest in the thruster pods. She knew they were really heavy, though.

Zarya wiped a few beads of sweat from her brow as she came over, flashing Hana another smile. “Good idea, the crates. Finally something worth lifting!”

The gamer could only laugh a little awkwardly at that, though, because she didn’t really know the first thing about lifting. Except for the fact that she liked watching Zarya do it. “Well, you… definitely lifted it! GG!”

She winced internally as Zarya chuckled again and approached, and then she was standing _right there,_ just standing there with her arms crossed, looking back at her. Hana smiled hesitantly, wondering what was going through her head.

...Zarya couldn’t feel the same way. Could she? No, that would be ridiculous.

“Well?” The weightlifter raised an eyebrow. “Where is this bolt?”

Hana blinked blankly, once, then the realization snapped into place. “Oh! Right, um- here, it’s…”

It was a very awkward bolt to get to at the best of times. It required a bit of flexibility, and a lot of patience, and meant that she had to stretch over in a way that was suddenly very uncomfortable because she was all too aware of the Russian bodybuilder standing nearby and watching her.

She tried her best, though, to keep her position half-dignified at least. Twisted to the side, one hand on her knee, both legs bent - her other arm up inside the mech, kinked off to the side, wrench in hand. She hooked it over the bolt and then extricated herself with a little sigh.

“Okay, the wrench is on it - just uh, pull it toward you? Once it’s loosened up I should be good to go at it myself.”

Zarya nodded with a surprising lack of confidence, taking half a step closer and reaching out almost trepidatiously. Her eyes flicked around blankly as she tried to reach through to the wrench, but she couldn’t get at it.

Hana ducked out and behind her, peeking around her side - she could _see_ the wrench in there, between two support rods and just behind a hydraulic line. “Here, just- reach in from this side maybe?” She nudged Zarya’s arm lightly, the feeling of rippling muscles unmistakeable even through the only momentary contact.

Zarya repositioned, stretching her hand in, but it struck against a pipe and she grunted in frustration. She tried again, from lower this time, and Hana could see her fingertips just barely tickling the metal of the wrench.

“So close!” She cheered, hands balled up into little fists as she bounced excitedly on her toes. “You can do it!”

The wrench popped off and clattered noisily, but didn’t hit the ground. Hana frowned as she looked around for it instinctively.

 _“Bozhye moy,”_ Zarya grumbled to herself as Hana blinked.

“Did it… fall _into_ the MEKA?”

Slowly, Zarya turned to offer her an apologetic smile and a little shrug. “It would seem so. Will… that be a problem?”

“Um, I-” Hana stammered slightly, laughing on instinct because she couldn’t get over how pretty Zarya’s eyes were and how sorry they looked. “Oh, it’s fine - I um, had to take the plating off anyway. For reasons.”

There were no reasons. She had only taken those panels off once, _ever_ , and it had been a huge pain in the ass, and she’d vowed to never do it again.

...but if she was doing it for _Zarya,_ well, that was a different story.

“Ah! Well, good,” the Russian soldier laughed in relief, rubbing at the back of her neck with a thick arm. “I am glad. Sorry, I could not reach- em, the- yes.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hana assured with a shrug. “It’s a toughie! Anyway, um,” she turned away to pick up a little toolkit - blue and pink canvas with cream-coloured accents and her signature bunny logo on it. “There was really only one other thing I was gonna do before taking a little break, but I gotta get up on top of the MEKA, so…”

She was _going_ to say, “so you can go back to working out or lifting or whatever”, but she never got a chance. As she was taking a breath to fuel the words, Zarya made a little noise of affirmation, stepped in close, and wrapped her hands around Hana’s waist.

Then, in a smooth motion, she lifted the tiny gamer up above her head. “I can help with that!”

Hana squeaked immediately when she was lifted up into the air. Her legs twitched but she kept them from flailing because she didn’t want to kick Zarya in the head, but her heart was hammering and sending hot blood rushing at the thought of the bodybuilder being so close.

Most of that hot blood was going right to her cheeks.

“Here,” Zarya called up to her, “stand on my shoulders!”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Hana laughed nervously, almost frantically, leaning forward and desperately hoping she could hide her blush overtop of the mech’s bulky frame. Her mind was totally blank, and at the same time filled with a kind of high-pitched noise as she thought about Zarya’s strong hands wrapped around her waist and how good it felt, how safe she felt, how effortlessly she’d been lifted.

After a second or two, though, she managed to catch her train of thought enough to lift up her feet and put them - _gently -_ on Zarya’s shoulders. It wasn’t as if Hana usually wore what most people would call ‘real’ shoes, anyway.

Although she was _distinctly_ aware of the fact that her legs were now _technically_ on either side of Zarya’s head, and that didn’t help her blush at all.

As she stood more upright, Zarya’s hands slipped from her waist, down the outside of her thighs, to rest just above her knees. They still held securely, keeping her stable and upright even while her knees knocked a little bit, tremoring and shaking because _of course they did_. She was standing on her crush’s shoulders and being held in place, and could still barely wrap her head around it.

“Ha, you seem a little shaky up there!” One of Zarya’s hands momentarily released its hold to give her a reassuring pat, just briefly. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Mha! Mn- nuh-uh,” Hana replied mostly nonsensically with a laugh, laying herself forward across the gentle dome of the MEKA’s hull and pressing her hot cheeks to the cold metal, letting her eyes roll back into her head as she tried to figure out if this seemed more like a _dream,_ or more like a nightmare.

It definitely seemed like more than just a crush. That much was certain.

After a moment or two of just breathing, she opened up the little toolkit and started to work - popping up one of the MEKA’s panels in order to get at the shield emitter array capacitor bank underneath and make a few tweaks.

All the while she worked, though, she was _constantly_ conscious of the hands holding tightly at her legs, never too tight but always firm enough to strike away any fear that they might slip off, and her mind wandered to how much she wanted those hands holding _her_ hands, or her shoulders, or a million other things instead.

It took her almost twenty minutes to finish the job. The last time she’d done this, it had only taken six.

 

\---

 

It was what Aleksandra “Zarya” Zaryanova would come to think of as “the wrench incident”.

She’d been in the gym at Overwatch’s Gibraltar facility, and it had been fine. Reinhardt hogged the really _big_ machines, Pharah spent all her time toning with free weights, and there was the constant noise of Tracer’s absurd excuses for shoes slapping against the treadmill, but that was actually not so bad. They were little reminders of her team, and that meant a lot.

She didn’t become Russia’s Defender without teamwork, without _caring_ for a team, and lately she’d started to add them in as well. Most of them, at least, the members of Overwatch.

Some moreso than others.

After a while, though, she’d grown a little bored with the gym and had gone wandering. A thoughtless reverie had been interrupted by a little noise of concentration, echoing in a large space.

Zarya went to a door and poked her head through into one of the hangars, and there was a sight there that would be instantly recognizable to most people: the bright pink mech that was known world-over as the one which belonged to the famous “D.Va”.

The famous D.Va, upon whom Zarya had a _massive_ crush.

It wasn’t too common for her - particularly not for someone so _small_ \- but she couldn’t shake it. She’d _tried._ It just didn’t work.

There was D.Va, too - Hana Song, twisted over underneath her mech, and her face was all scrunched up in concentration as she was buried shoulder-deep in the machine, and the smears of grease on her cheeks mimicked the pink triangular whiskers there.

In spite of herself, and entirely forgetting that she wasn’t even really supposed to _be_ there, Zarya laughed. D.Va was just so _cute_ she couldn’t help it.

D.Va yelped and fell down.

Zarya’s eyes flew wide and she stepped instinctively forward to offer help, but the gamer was already pushing herself upright. Still, Zarya offered her hand.

“What- who’s-” D.Va seemed to stall when she saw Zarya standing there.

“Sorry,” Zarya apologized with a grin as D.Va took her hand, and as silly as it was, her heart leapt a little bit at the contact. “I did not meant to frighten you!”

She hadn’t meant to _anything_ \- she wasn’t even supposed to _be_ here, and as she realized that, her mind started to race frantically and try to pull together some half-reasonable excuse.

...because at first, all she could think was “I thought I heard you in here, and you’re so cute I just had to look in and see”.

That wouldn’t work, though. She couldn’t say _that,_ for about a million reasons.

Her mind raced blankly as the gamer laughed it all off, tossed her hair back over her shoulder, and leaned effortlessly back against her mech. “Ha! Don’t worry about it - what’s up, ZZ?”

Zarya’s heart nearly kicked into overdrive at that, her grin widening by a notch so it nearly hurt her cheeks. _Did she just give me a nickname? That’s so cute! Wait, no, I need to think of a reason to be here, shit, I-_

To buy a little bit of time, she laughed and shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest, and then opened her mouth and hoped that _something_ at least half-sensible would come out of it.

“I was wondering if there was anything worthwhile to lift in here. The gymnasium here is disappointing at best.”

Well, it wasn’t _entirely_ nonsensical. It even made sense. There were heavy things in hangars and machine shops. Sure there were.

Never mind the fact that the gym was, in fact, a top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art facility which was fully stocked. Even _she_ probably couldn’t max out some of the equipment - although Reinhardt had tried, once, in his cheating suit of power armour, just for fun. He’d thrown a weight machine through a wall by accident.

“Oh, of course,” D.Va laughed, glancing around as Zarya just tried not to look like an idiot whose only interest was lifting heavy things. Or, even worse, like an idiot whose only interests were lifting heavy things and cute gamer girls. “Uh… well, there’s a couple of Orca thruster pods in those crates over there?” She gestured to a few wooden boxes stacked up against a wall. “They’re pretty heavy. Winston and Reinhardt were double-teaming them earlier.”

Zarya’s head snapped over to look in that direction, feigning interest as her mind ran aground sharply. _Did she just say double-teaming? Oh shit._ She could feel heat in her cheeks and just desperately hoped that D.Va didn’t notice.

She turned away and started to walk toward the crates, because D.Va probably had people hitting on her all the time. She must have her pick of the litter, of everyone the world over - it wasn’t exactly likely that she’d settle for a battle-scarred soldier.

“Anyway, um,” D.Va said behind her, but Zarya couldn’t risk her blush being discovered and just kept right on walking. “I’m kinda working on some fine-tuning. Gotta keep that edge up, y’know? But hey, don’t be a stranger and stuff, haha! You like the music?”

Of course she was working on things - she’d been in here working on things just fine on her own, and now Zarya had come in and thrown a wrench in the works.

She could just stay over here, though. She could just stay over here and lift some boxes and then she could leave, and get out of the gamer’s hair.

Even if she didn’t want to. She _wanted_ to say something about it all, but that would just be stupid.

Only belatedly did she realize that D.Va had asked her a question, and she shrugged, panicking for an answer. “It is fine. Music.”

It wasn’t the truth - but she couldn’t _say_ the truth. The truth which was that she’d found herself guiltily listening to this kind of music almost non-stop in her free time lately, because it made her think of D.Va. Because it was so easy to picture the lithe woman grinning and laughing and dancing to it, so freely, the way only she did.

Zarya wiped at her brow, and it had nothing to do with the exercise she’d been doing a minute ago.

“Ha, yeah,” D.Va called over as Zarya sized up the boxes. “I like music.”

 _I know. It’s so cute how you like it. The way you tap your foot to the beat._ She even made the mech dance sometimes, and that so completely summed her up, in Zarya’s opinion. Using a thousand-pound warmachine to dance to cheery songs.

Zarya couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as her heart hammered and she crouched, clamping the box in her hands. Her thoughts roamed freely, back over the time since she’d met D.Va in person.

She’d known about the gamer beforehand, at least somewhat. The number of advertisements that bore her face - or had done, at least - was too high to avoid entirely for anyone who had any presence online.

When the young woman had joined the military, Zarya had heard about that too. She’d respected it, another woman giving up a promising career in order to protect her country, her people. She felt a strong camaraderie with D.Va from that moment forward.

...then she’d met her. Laughs and giggles and playful punches to the shoulders for her friends, and Zarya had fallen head over heels, _hard._

That had been a few months ago.

She still hadn’t said anything about it.

To _anyone._

Almost thoughtlessly, she lifted the crate up into a ready position, and then overhead - they were quite heavy, probably at least a hundred fifty kilos, if she had to guess. Nowhere near her coveted personal best, of course, but a respectable weight for exercise, certainly.

That was around when she realized how frustrated D.Va’s noises sounded, and how she was tugging at the machine, and nothing seemed to be happening.

“Do you need a hand?” Zarya was frowning lightly in concern, but as soon as D.Va looked over, her face washed over with a goofy smirk.

“Ha, uh… yeah,” the gamer replied with a sigh, shoulders sagging. “I’m just not strong enough to get the bolt loose.”

“Ha!” Zarya tossed her head back for a laugh, lowering the crate and dropping it the last half-inch to the ground. It kicked up quite the cloud of dust.

_You are strong where it counts. I can be your strength everywhere else. If you want me to be._

She couldn’t say any of that, though, of course.

The thought of it - coupled with the lift, and the way D.Va was _looking_ at her, so hopefully and thankfully - had Zarya wiping sweat from her brow again. In an effort to divert attention away from her own nervousness, she flashed a smile and decided to say thanks.

“Good idea, the crates. Finally something worth lifting!”

 _Technically,_ it was thanks. It just wasn’t very _good_ thanks and it sounded pretty terrible, and Zarya groaned internally. _Why must every thing be about lifting? Stop being such a useless lesbian! Focus!_

D.Va laughed, though, because of course she did, because she was like that. She would never make you feel bad about something, even if she had no interest at all in it. “Well, you… definitely lifted it! GG!”

...and she definitely _didn’t_ have any interest in it, and Zarya wanted to apologize, but that seemed a little bit odd. She panicked a little and just chuckled, crossing her arms and waiting - it would probably be best if she just shut up and let D.Va do the talking.

...except she didn’t.

She didn’t talk - D.Va just stood there, looking back at her, silently.

Zarya didn’t know what to do about that. She stood there waiting with her arms crossed, looking back, her heart rate increasing with every passing moment - why wasn’t she saying anything? Did she somehow _know?_

...did she maybe feel the same?

_No, no, that couldn’t- of course not._

Clearly there had just been some kind of miscommunication. She could fix that, though - and needed to, quickly, before her panic drove another blush into her cheeks. She raised an eyebrow. ““Well? Where is this bolt?”

D.Va blinked at her, very cutely, and then her eyes widened a little. “Oh! Right, um- here, it’s…”

 _What was that?_ Zarya stared as the gamer turned around and started to look at the mech. _Something_ had distracted her, whatever it was. Thinking about the machine, probably - that made the most sense. She spent a lot of time around it, tinkering and caring for it; if it wasn’t working right, it would make sense that she would be distracted by it.

Speaking of distractions, Zarya had a few of them as D.Va twisted all around underneath the machine and tried to get into position. On the one hand, she was a little bit disappointed that the gamer wasn’t stretched over backward and sideways the way she had been earlier - but at the same time, she was _very_ glad that, now that she was close by, D.Va was in a more ignorable position.

Kind of.

Zarya kicked herself internally for her dirty mind.

“Okay, the wrench is on it - just uh, pull it toward you? Once it’s loosened up I should be good to go at it myself.”

 _Shut up shut up shut up._ Zarya tried to cut out the parts of her mind that latched onto certain words like _loosened up_ and _go at it myself_ and tried to lace those words through with the image of how D.Va had been stretched out earlier, because that was terrible, so she just focused on the task at hand instead.

Mostly.

Zarya nodded hesitantly, _trying_ to focus on getting in at the wrench, but she didn’t really know _how_ to. It was a pretty cramped space to get through, and she didn’t exactly have the smallest hands.

...which didn’t help her mind’s perverted tangents _at all._

She tried to twist her hand around at a different angle but hit something else, and then her wrist was pinched in tightly against some piece of metal. D.Va came out from underneath and stood behind her, and then _leaned forward_ against her to look around, and Zarya became intensely aware of how dry her mouth was.

“Here, just- reach in from this side maybe?”

One of her hands met Zarya’s elbow, adjusting her arm to the side, and Zarya just held her breath and tried not to read too much into it, not to focus on how gentle her touch was, how good that flicker of skin against skin _felt_. She tried again to get at the wrench, reaching, but her hand hit something and stopped as she grunted.

_Maybe lower. Shut up. Don’t think it_

Except D.Va was leaning forward against her a little, supporting herself on Zarya’s shoulder as the bodybuilder knelt down to try to get a better angle. She tried to keep her mind straight…

...but that always _had_ been a problem for her.

Her lungs practically burned as she tried not to pant - she felt like she was having highly audible breaths for some reason and worried over what conclusions D.Va might draw based off of that, but holding her breath did make things a little awkward as she stretched to try to get her hand on the wrench’s handle.

She couldn’t even see it at this point, feeling around blindly _(in the dark)_ and stretching _(shut up)_ in the tight space _(stop thinking about it)_ and her lungs burned from holding her breath so long _(don’t)_ and she could feel it _(damnit)_ , just barely _(stop)_ , on the tips of her fingers - the wrench, she was sure of it.

“So close!” D.Va cheered, bouncing up and down behind Zarya - nudging her a little bit as she did, almost leaning against the soldier’s side in order to be able to see into the machine. “You can do it!”

The words, the tone, the excitement in her voice, the little jump - it was all too much, and the air leapt out of Zarya’s lungs suddenly as she twitched, knocking the wrench off of the bolt it had hung from. There was a clank, and she flinched; a bang and she winced, while her mind was still mostly full of “ _So close!”_ and her yelling at herself inside to shut up.

Zarya leaned forward, her hand buried inside the mech gripping tightly onto _something_ , she didn’t even care what, as she leaned her forehead forward against her bicep and sighed. _“Bozhye moy.” Oh my god. You useless lesbian._

“Did it… fall _into_ the MEKA?”

Zarya’s eyes flew open at the soft question, but she was still blushing far too much to turn and face her. She took a second just to breath, to let herself calm down, only slowly turning to smile apologetically up to D.Va.  “It would seem so.” She shrugged slightly. “Will… that be a problem?”

“Um, I-” Hana stammered slightly and laughed, and Zarya couldn’t focus anywhere other than on her eyes and how much they lit up when she laughed. “Oh, it’s fine - I um, had to take the plating off anyway. For reasons.”

“Ah! Well, good,” Zarya laughed in relief, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously as she realized she’d probably been looking into D.Va’s eyes for a little bit too long. Instead, she glanced off to the side. “I am glad. Sorry, I could not reach-” she tripped over her words a little, her mind catching on prior thoughts and how close D.Va was, “-em, the- yes.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hana assured with a shrug. “It’s a toughie!”

She was so impossibly cute.

“Anyway, um,” D.Va turned around and Zarya pushed herself up to her feet. She should leave - leave the gamer and soldier alone to finish her work, she’d stolen enough time already. “There was really only one other thing I was gonna do before taking a little break, but I gotta get up on top of the MEKA, so…”

...or not. Or she could _not_ leave, and Zarya really liked the sound of that _much_ more than leaving, so she decided to take that option instead. She always had been swift at decisions - and she knew she was plenty capable of helping out with a lift.

With a nod and a soft grunt of confirmation - moving quickly enough to stop her own mind from panicking and slamming on the brakes - Zarya stepped in close and wrapped her hands around D.Va’s waist, and picked her up into the air above her head. “I can help with that!”

Maybe she could at least play it off as a joke or something, if it all went wrong. Or she could just stay in her barracks forever and never come out again.

Either way.

D.Va squeaked and Zarya’s grin widened at the cute noise, but she wasn’t flailing or fighting - and she wasn’t yelling to be put down or anything like that. Sure, Zarya knew she could have grabbed a ladder instead, but this worked as well.

It had distinct upsides, too. Primarily the fact that it meant she got to be close.

That was very good.

“Here,” Zarya called up to her, grinning like the fool she was. She could hold D.Va just about forever, she was sure of it, but it might not be the best position for actually _working._ Which was, in theory, what they were actually doing. “Stand on my shoulders!”

“Y-yeah, of course,” D.Va responded with a laugh, and Zarya’s heart flickered at it. If she hadn’t known the reasons, she would have been booking an inspection with one of the medics - she knew the reason, though.

It was a stupid heart that wanted things it couldn’t have, _that_ was the reason.

At least this was something, though - at least she could help D.Va. The gamer stepped gingerly onto her shoulders and Zarya didn’t even need to move to accommodate the shift in weight. D.Va’s shoes were made of something soft and rubbery, more like what Zarya would expect to find at the beach.

...and then she was picturing D.Va in a swimsuit and blushing again, and suddenly praying that nobody walked in to find them like that.

D.Va stood upright, and Zarya let her hands slide - supportively, of course - down her legs. She tried to keep her mind straight, to keep her thoughts chaste, and she mostly succeeded. She managed to keep them to the thought of sitting on the couch with the gamer in her lap, wrapped up in cuddles as they watched a movie.

Even if they did momentarily flicker to what they might do after the movie was over.

At first, Zarya thought _she_ was the one shaking; trembling a little, and she figured it was just her own stupid heart again, but it wasn’t. It turned out to actually be D.Va, jittering on top of her shoulders.

“Ha, you seem a little shaky up there!” Zarya let go with one hand, briefly, to pat D.Va reassuringly on the side of the leg. “Are you afraid of heights?”

_Maybe no dates in revolving restaurants. Ground-floor apartments only. With two dogs and a kitten. Nice pale blue walls, one of those huge couches. Fireplace._

_Stupid useless lesbian!_

“Mha! Mn- nuh-uh!”

Zarya didn’t know what to make of D.Va’s response, didn’t know what it meant exactly, but then she was laughing again and Zarya didn’t even care. She was helping, she was close, D.Va was laughing - everything was good.

Everything except for maybe her thoughts, which were _still_ focusedly inspiring an angry blush on her cheeks, and Zarya leaned forward slightly to quench the heat of it against the chilled metal of the MEKA unit’s cannon-arm.

She had no idea at all what D.Va was doing up there, and she didn’t care in the slightest. If she came back down within the next few minutes Zarya would need to explain her stupid red cheeks and she _really_ didn’t want to do that. Even though she really _wanted_ to do that - but only the way you want things in dreams, where you did things you’d never actually do in real life.

Luckily, D.Va didn’t ask to come down within the next few minutes. It took her quite a while, in fact, whatever job she had to do up there, but Zarya didn’t care in the slightest. Every minute there was another one she could spend smiling, holding D.Va in _some_ way at least, even if it was only supportive.

Even if it was only as a friend.

 

\---

 

It was what Zarya would come to think of as “the forks incident”.

D.Va was sitting down at a table in the mess hall, with two forks in hand and a toothpick in the other, and a glass bottle of bright green soda set on the table, condensation trickling down the glass.

That was what was happening when Zarya walked in and saw her. It had been a few days since “the wrench incident”, and they hadn’t run into each other in that time, and the thought already had her heart running a little bit faster and her gut squirming inside her.

D.Va looked up. She smiled, she waved, and she must have had _no idea_ what it felt like as Zarya’s lips pulled into a grin and her hand raised of its own accord and waved back. How could it _not_ float up and wave? She was made of air, she was floating, because D.Va was smiling at her.

“Heya, ZZ!”

Her heart might have stopped in that moment, just for an instant, as her stomach did flips. A deep chuckle leapt out of her chest and she ambled over to D.Va’s table. “Hello, D.Va!” One eyebrow quirked up as she glanced down to the table. “I have heard of eating _pizza_ with a fork, but soda pop? Ha!”

...it was a stupid thing to say and she regretted it almost immediately, but she had a tendency to get a little bit confrontational when she was nervous. At the least, teasing - it had always been her fall-back.

It hadn’t seemed like a problem until right about _now._

Zarya slid into the bench opposite D.Va with a nervous grin, but the gamer was laughing, and that made it all alright. Better than alright. Beautiful. Perfect.

“You can call me Hana, you know,” she smiled across the soda bottle. “D.Va’s really just when I’m on-screen!”

“Hana,” Zarya responded softly, liking how the unfamiliar name felt in her mouth, how round it was - she’d _known_ the name, but she hadn’t used it for the same reasons she didn’t expect her teammates to go around calling her Aleksandra. “Is a nice name!” _Shut up shut up-_ her eyes dropped to the still-confusing array of forks and soda bottle, and she gestured to it with a shrug. “What is that?”

“Bottle of soda.”

Her eyes snapped up from the bottle to meet with D.Va’s - Hana’s - which were so wide from this close, just across the table, and gorgeous. Zarya didn’t want to blink, but confusion spurred her on to do so anyway.

“...no, I knew that, yes, but-”

“It’s like kind of a lemon-lime thing?” Hana interrupted abruptly, suddenly staring down at the bottle as her cheeks shifted a little bit pink, and Zarya suddenly had to struggle to not make a noise at how cute she was. Hana shrugged. “Pretty much just gamer fuel.”

Zarya imagined that, in that moment, she was grinning wider than she had in a long time. Maybe ever.

Realistically, though, it was only the widest she’d grinned since Tuesday. Since “the wrench incident”. She laughed and shook her head. “No, I mean - I did not mean what flavour!”

Hana looked up from the bottle again, meeting her eyes almost in panic as she made a little noise.

“I- I meant-” Zarya held out a hand, hoping to forestall any upset. “I meant to ask what you were doing with the forks! I never see you using them to eat, and you don’t need _two_ for that anyway, so…” she trailed off into a shrug.

...and only belatedly realized that she’d given away how closely she paid attention to Hana when she was around the base. How many times she’d glanced up and over and her eyes had fallen on the Korean soldier, bowl of soup in hand and being tipped back - when she even ate _real_ food at all it never seemed to require a fork or knife. Half the time she just had a bag of something to munch on, chips or some other snack, and would scowl when Doctor Zeigler came over to scold her.

Luckily, Hana didn’t seem to realize the admission - or at least didn’t react to it. She just giggled and laughed, and shook her head. “Oh, oh right! Yeah of course - um, it’s, I don’t know it’s just a silly thing,” she gushed, “but like, it’s kind of fun sometimes?” She looked up from the forks in her hand to meet Zarya’s eyes briefly, almost beseechingly, and _whatever_ she was asking for, Zarya wanted to give it to her.

She nodded, idly, before her eyebrows drew together a little as she noticed that she still had _no_ idea what Hana was actually talking about. “I, em-”

“Oh, I’ll, uh, here,” Hana blurted, “here, I’ll show you! It’s just kind of a little party trick, but… okay, so you start by sticking the forks to the toothpick - like, um, sticking it in between the… um…” she tapped a finger on the points of the fork, Zarya watching that finger dedicatedly. “The um. The. Things. These things.”

Zarya raised an eyebrow, frowning. Her English was far from perfect, and generally it seemed like Hana’s was better, but everyone had gaps where they didn’t know a word. Zarya couldn’t think of it immediately, either - but that was mostly because her mind was filled with a whole bunch of other things, like Hana’s smile and Hana’s eyes and Hana’s fingers and how they’d feel stroking at her arm or her jaw and- _shut up shut up stop it_. With a shrug, she suggested, “Points?”

Hana immediately laughed. “Points! Yeah, that’s a good word - I just kept thinking _legs,_ haha, but um-” she cut off abruptly and cleared her throat, shaking her head and dropping her chin as she muttered something under her breath. It sounded Korean. “Anyway, uh,” she continued in English, pressing the toothpick into place between the tines of one fork. “You just kinda… stick ‘em together like that…”

She lined up the other fork, wedging it onto the toothpick as well, which resulted in the two forks being at roughly opposite angles to each other with their tines aligned with each other. Zarya nodded, still not understanding what really was happening, but she was unable to wipe a smile off of her face at the idea that she was being included like this. Whatever she was being included _in_ didn’t really matter - Hana was the one doing it, that was the important part.

“And then you can just,” Hana shrugged, and Zarya caught the motion out of the corner of her eye even though her gaze remained focused on the forks. They were lifted up, and set overtop of the soda bottle - the toothpick against the glass, and she raised her eyebrow as Hana lifted it away and pinched off one end of the toothpick, breaking it.

Then, she set the whole bizarre setup down on top of the bottle, and it balanced. Somehow. Even though the tip of the toothpick barely protruded past the edge of the rim and both forks hung out far over empty space, it balanced.

Zarya stared, wide-eyed, leaning in. “What! How? How did you-” she frowned, waving her hands around the forks and underneath them - not touching them but ensuring there weren’t any strings or anything holding the whole mess up.

Hana giggled cheerily. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Very!” Zarya agreed, leaning in until she was almost laying across the table so that she could see up close. It didn’t look right at all, it looked like the forks should topple off - the balance was all wrong. “Impressive! How does it work?”

She reached out and gingerly lifted the toothpick, taking the forks with it. It wasn’t somehow glued to the bottle. There wasn’t anything holding it in place, nothing supporting it, and no sensations she’d expect from gravity adjustments being made.

“It’s just a balance thing?” Hana shrugged as Zarya frowned and set the forks down again. “Takes some practice to get it down pat.”

Practice which Zarya didn’t have. When she’d lifted the forks, she hadn’t set them back down in _precisely_ the same place, and the balance point was substantially shifted as a result - almost immediately, the forks began to fall, and Zarya panicked. Not wanting to ruin Hana’s little demonstration, she tried to snatch up the forks before they fell off entirely.

She succeeded.

She also knocked the bottle of soda over, directly onto herself. With a sharp gasp she shot upright, the cold drink shocking her skin and tingling as it fizzed, and she stared down at her white Olympics shirt which was now soaked in bright green soda pop.

 _“Suka!”_ Zarya shouted instinctively as she dropped the forks anyway and dropped her hands to her side in frustration, then flashed Hana an apologetic smile as she realized she’d just shouted _bitch_ by accident. “The bottle. Not you.”

Hana’s eyes were fixed on the spill for several seconds, but then they snapped up to meet hers and the gamer blinked rapidly, cheeks turning pink. “Th- um, that’s gonna stain, um, you shou- ohhhhhhkay.”

She cut off in the middle of a word because, as soon as Zarya heard it was going to stain, she immediately yanked off the shirt with a growl. “My favourite Olympic shirt!” She shook her head, pushing herself up from the table and running over to the sink, running water and shoving her shirt underneath it before dropping her head into her hands.

_Absolutely useless. So useless. Piece of-_

Zarya was shaken from her moment of internal anger, when something bumped against her elbow. It was Hana, offering her a damp towel, eyes fixed on the ground and blushing heavily.

“Here, um,” she shrugged, “for um, the soda? It’s- sorry, I-”

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” Zarya assured with a sigh and a chuckle, taking the towel and wiping at her abs and chest. Some had dripped onto her pants as well, and she groaned as she shook her head. “It was my fault. I will need a shower at this rate.”

Hana laughed abruptly, turning on heel to go and deal with the bottle - she was so kind and helpful that way, and Zarya couldn’t help but watch her with a smile as she knelt down to pick up the mess that she hadn’t even caused.

“Showers are fun!” She called back over her shoulder without turning her head, taking the bottle to a receptacle in the other direction rather than the one near Zarya - she figured Hana just hadn’t seen it, though. “Y- uh, have, you know, have fun with it, um, s-see you around, ZZ!”

With that and a wave, Hana Song fled the room.

Zarya sighed heavily, tossing the wet towel into the sink with a groan and letting her head sink into her hands again as Tracer came over.

“Heya, love - don’t sound so worried,” she assured, “I’m sure the stain’ll come out! I’m endlessly getting grass and blood in my tights - Mercy’s got some stuff that’ll clear it right up. Some kind of enzyme...matic...nano…” the cheery brit waved her hand with a shrug. “I dunno - anyway, works wonders! I’ve got some in my quarters. I’ll go grab it, yeah?”

Zarya, head still firmly entrenched in her hands and wondering at what point she’d lose consciousness from blood lost to the blush spreading from her chest to her cheeks, nodded with a groan. “Thank you, Tracer.” She sighed heavily. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The brit ran off, shoes squeaking until she got out of the mess hall, and Zarya just stood there and grumbled at herself about what a fool she looked like. What a fool she _was_ , really, and all it had taken was one happy, cheery gamer.

It was hopeless, absolutely hopeless… and so was she.

 

\---

 

It was what Hana would come to think of as “the shirt incident”.

She was sitting, bored, in the mess hall one day. It had been three days since “the lifting incident” and it was _really_ hard to get it out of her mind. How close Zarya had been, holding her up, the fact that they’d touched.

Hana found her mind slipping back there and off on tangents, onto what _could_ have been - what if, when Zarya had let her back down again, she’d come down turned around so they were face to face? So Zarya could stroke a stray hair behind her ear, and grin that lopsided grin, and-

A movement interrupted her thoughts - a movement which happened to be Zarya entering the mess hall, and Hana instinctively waved at her with a smile. Zarya waved back effortlessly with a grin, and she must have had no idea how it made her feel. The way it made her insides squirm, the way she felt like a breath of air after diving under water.

“Heya, ZZ!”

She heard the words after she said them - she hadn’t necessarily _meant_ to say them, and had sort of hoped that the impromptu nickname would die off if she never said it again.

Unfortunately, not so much, and now that she’d used it _twice_ it seemed pretty solidly set.

Zarya chuckled, though - she chuckled and she grinned, and suddenly Hana found herself thinking that it was a pretty great nickname actually. The thought struck her that it would feel really good to whisper it heatedly and she had to put the brakes on that thought _real_ quick or risk an actual nosebleed all over the table.

“Hello, D.Va!” Zarya smirked as she slid into the bench on the other side of the table. “I have heard of eating _pizza_ with a fork, but soda pop? Ha!”

Hana laughed brightly, and it was only about thirty percent due to nervousness. Maybe thirty-five. Or seventy-five. Maybe. Zarya was just so close, and so pretty, and had such a nice grin _(and nice lips)._

“You can call me Hana, you know,” she flashed a smile across the table, and tried to suppress the thoughts that swirled around that - around Zarya _saying her name._ “D.Va’s really just when I’m on-screen!”

It was half-true, at least, but when Zarya immediately nodded and smiled and said, “Hana,” the gamer realized that it probably wasn’t her primary motivator. No, really, she’d wanted to hear Zarya say her name - wanted to hear how it sounded coming out of the bodybuilder’s mouth.

Really good, as it turned out.

“Is a nice name!”

Hana nodded slightly emptily, her mind still focused on how her name had sounded, low and round with Zarya’s accent; how the woman’s mouth had moved when she’d been forming the word, and she got a little bit overly focused on it. To the point that she mostly missed the next question.

“What is that?”

“Bottle of soda,” Hana half-sighed, looking dreamily into Zarya’s intense eyes - they were looking safely down and away so she took advantage of the opportunity.

Then she heard what she’d said, though, and her own eyes widened as Zarya’s rose to meet her. _She knows it’s a soda bottle! She’s not- what the-_

Zarya blinked, shaking her head slightly. “...no, I knew that, yes, but-”

Hana panicked. Of _course_ Zarya had known it was a bottle of soda, and now she just sounded like some idiot kid and that was no good. “It’s like a kind of a lemon-lime thing?” She tried to say the words insistently, matter-of-factly, to try to save face.

The only problem was that she didn’t _really_ know exactly what flavour it was supposed to be. She’d drank about ten thousand litres of it but she’d never really had to explain it before, and she was still a little caught up on how stupid she’d been a second ago, so she just shrugged and desperately hoped that her blush wasn’t showing. “Pretty much just gamer fuel.”

She looked down at the bottle, bright green almost glowing, fizzy, condensation coating the outside of it and occasionally forming a drip that slid down, and she debated offering Zarya a taste which was a bit of a stupid thing to debate. It was a totally normal thing to offer. She was all thrown off by her growing embarrassment, though.

“No, I mean - I did not mean what flavour!”

Hana looked up from the bottle again, staring into Zarya’s eyes in panic, and a tiny whine escaped her nose before she managed to stop it. If she was trying to _not_ come across as a dumb kid (which she was), then she was definitely failing, but she didn’t know what else to say on the topic.

Thankfully, Zarya came to her rescue. “I- I meant-” she held out a hand with a slight grin and a bit of a worried look in her eyes. “I meant to ask what you were doing with the forks! I never see you using them to eat, and you don’t need _two_ for that anyway, so…” she trailed off into a shrug.

_Oh._

That made a lot of sense, and Hana couldn’t even recall what she’d thought it had all maybe been about - all she remembered was thinking about offering Zarya a taste, and the bodybuilder lifting up the bottle with a smirk, and pressing it to her lips, and…

 _....oh right. That was what happened._ Hana giggled and laughed and tried not to let her thoughts run off too far down that track again - at least not right here where she could make an idiot out of herself again. For the third time.

“Oh, oh right!” She laughed lightly, shaking her head as she explained a little about the balancing trick. “Yeah of course - um, it’s, I don’t know it’s just a silly thing, but like, it’s kind of fun sometimes?” Her eyes flicked to Zarya’s, hoping that she didn’t sound like some dumb kid.

She wasn’t one. She hadn’t been a kid for years and years - she’d grown up in a warzone, with refugees from other cities trailing in constantly and replacing the faces which went home one day and just never returned. She might have been the youngest one there at Overwatch, but she _wasn’t_ a child… at the same time, she knew people thought about her as one.

_Do you? Would you ever think of me as… more than just a kid? More than just a teammate? Could that ever happen?_

Distantly, she realized that this eye contact was maybe going on too long, but she didn’t want it to stop. Zarya had gorgeous eyes, and Hana felt like she could read something in them. Some fragment of thought or some feeling, some confusion - as Zarya started to frown, Hana was certain of it.

...because she hadn’t actually _mentioned_ the trick yet, her brain chose to remind her at that very inopportune moment, just as Zarya started to question it.

“I, em-”

Hana cut her off, desperately trying to maintain a good appearance. “Oh, I’ll, uh, here,” she picked up the forks and toothpick again - she’d put them down at some point but couldn’t recall doing so. “Here, I’ll show you! It’s just kind of a little party trick,” she half-rolled her eyes, hoping to play it all off as that, “but… okay, so you start by sticking the forks to the toothpick - like, um, sticking it in between the…”

She _wished_ her mind would’ve run blank at that moment, because what it did instead was far worse. First, she forgot the word for those pointy bits of the fork. Then, her mind unhelpfully suggested _legs_ , which would make the joint she was trying to wedge the toothpick into the _crotch_ and then she was thinking about legs and then she was thinking about _Zarya’s_ legs, and while that would normally have been a very very good thing, she was in public right now with Zarya across from her.

“...um…”

A blush rose to her cheeks as she tapped a finger absentmindedly at the tip of the fork, desperately trying to come up with the word. _Legs. No._ “The um.” _Is it legs? No._ “The.” _It’s not legs, I know that._ “Things.” _Muscular legs? Big Russian legs?_ “These things.”

“Points?”

Hana immediately laughed. “Points! Yeah, that’s a good word - I just kept thinking _legs,_ haha, but um-”

The words choked off in her throat and she tried to turn it into a little cough, hoping to cover it and her blush as she dropped her head and called herself an idiot in Korean.

_Legs? NO! I mean yes but no!_

“Anyway, uh,” Hana desperately tried not to think about legs, but it really didn’t work. “You just kinda… stick ‘em together like that…”

Not like legs. You stuck them together entirely unlike legs. You pushed the toothpick in between the not-legs of the fork entirely _un_ like you would ever push anything between legs, _entirely_ unlike Hana wanted to push herself between Zarya’s legs.

She desperately tried to focus in on the trick, but the problem was that she was well-practiced at it and she didn’t _need_ to think about it anymore. Her hands would do the work on their own, really, without her mind’s supervision - which of course left her mind free to think about other things it wanted her hands to do. This, in turn, left Hana desperately longing for a sip of the soda in order to quench her thirst.

Of course, it was currently being used for a trick, so that wasn’t a possibility.

“And then you can just,” she continued on in a half-explanation, her mouth rambling on autopilot as much as her hands did as half of her mind was wholly occupied with wrangling the _other_ half. She didn’t realize that she didn’t finish the sentence as she set the assembled forks and toothpick down on the bottle’s edge, felt the balance point, lifted it back up and snapped the toothpick off near there - for maximum effect - and then set the assembly back down again.

It balanced perfectly on the edge of the bottle, two forks seeming to float in midair - they didn’t look like they could be balance and supported by the toothpick. That was the joy of the trick.

It was a good one, too. Hana was immediately convinced of this when Zarya - after an instant’s pause - leaned close with eyes wide in shock. “What! How? How did you-” she failed to finish her sentence as she tried to inspect the setup, waving her hands around and peering in closely.

Hana couldn’t suppress a giggle at that, the look of consternation on Zarya’s face but delight across her lips and in her eyes. She was glad she could bring that expression into being. “Pretty cool, huh?”

She knew it was. She’d know it the whole time! It was a great trick, everyone loved it - she couldn’t remember why she’d ever been nervous about it at all!

_Legs._

_...oh… right._

“Very!” Zarya nodded in agreement, still inspecting the setup, leaning flat across the table. All the confusion was gone from her face now and replaced with almost childlike delight, and Hana grinned at that as the bodybuilder questioned her further. “Impressive! How does it work?”

She liked Zarya’s voice.

“It’s just a balance thing?” Hana shrugged as Zarya lifted the forks off of the bottle for a moment and then set them down again. “Takes some practice to get it down pat.”

Practice which she had - practice which she had devoted time to, time with _empty_ glasses and _empty_ bottles, rather than one filled almost to the brim with bright-green gamer fuel soda.

She saw the forks start to fall. She started to reach out to catch them, instinctively, but Zarya’s instincts were faster.

Maybe stronger, too.

The bodybuilder snatched up the forks as a panicked look flashed over her face, but in the process, she yanked the bottle toward herself and spilled it all. Halfway laying across the table as she was, it pretty much soaked her from the neck down - she sat up abruptly, glaring down at her shirt.

Her white shirt.

Her white _wet_ shirt.

Hana’s eyes widened as the bottle rolled away and dropped to the floor, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the way that Zarya’s shirt clung to her skin and her muscles, the way that it blatantly hinted at all of the curves and forms _underneath_ that shirt, and Hana felt heat rising from her gut right through her core to her cheeks as Zarya spat out something in Russian.

_“Suka!”_

Hana had no idea what it meant. She also didn’t know a damn thing about lifting - but apparently, again, she liked when _Zarya_ did it. Liked it a lot.

“The bottle. Not you.”

 _The… huh? What?_ Hana blinked, eyes still tracing the lines and curves revealed by Zarya’s soaked shirt. _What’s… I don’t…_

Then she realized that she was being spoken to, and was just staring at Zarya’s chest, and her gaze snapped up to meet Zarya’s eyes. They were looking right back at her. _Oh god. She saw me staring at her chest. Oh no. Shit. Excuse, quick, come up with an excuse!_

As her mind raced for a reason, her eyelids flickered as they sometimes did and she could feel the blood flushing her cheeks. Her brain _did_ provide her with an excuse, though.

“Th- um, that’s gonna stain, um, you shou-”

 _Should go to your quarters and wash it pretty soon._ Those were the next words to come out - or they would have been, they’d been the _plan_ , but admittedly the plan also hadn’t entailed getting a crush on an unobtainable teammate and then getting her wet.

She never got a chance to say it, though, because as soon as she said “stain”, Zarya dropped the forks to the table and yanked her shirt right off.

A surprised sort of almost-moan leapt from Hana’s mouth, but she managed to turn it into a word. Kind of. “Ohhhhhhkay.”

Now, the wet shirt wasn’t hinting at anything. Nothing was hinting at anything anymore - Zarya sat there shirtless, her skin glistening with wetness as she pushed herself up from the table and Hana couldn’t tear her eyes away. She was wearing a sports bra, because of course she was, but that didn’t really make things _easier_ to deal with for Hana’s mind.

“My favourite Olympic shirt!”

Zarya pushed herself up and away from the table, and it surprised Hana out of her reverie. It might’ve been helped along by the sudden removal of her distractions, too - but regardless of the reasons, she suddenly realized what was happening and that she should do something about it.

She didn’t want Zarya’s favourite shirt to be ruined, and felt a little guilty about it - half because it was sort of her doing, with the trick and all, and half because if she’d been given a chance she would’ve done exactly the same thing again.

Still, she could do something to help. Glancing over, she realized that Zarya was soaking her shirt - but that didn’t do anything for the soda that covered her skin, and Hana could help with that.

_Maybe by licking it off?_

Her cheeks heated up even more as she jogged swiftly to one of the other sinks and grabbed a towel, soaking it and wringing it and then heading to Zarya.

...except she was still shirtless. And glistening. And _sticky._

Hana couldn’t shake the thoughts that tumbled all over each other (exactly the way she wanted her and Zarya to tumble all over each other) but she didn’t want to abandon a friend so she just stared at the ground and ignored her own furious blush and blindly nudged at Zarya’s arm. “Here, um,” she shrugged, still staring at the ground, “for um, the soda? It’s- sorry, I-”

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” Zarya interjected with a chuckle and a sigh. Of course she did, she was very supportive like that. The only problem was that, as she took the towel, her hand brushed against Hana’s and that didn’t help her blush at all. Neither did the fact that her eyes caught on the towel and followed it as it was swept across Zarya’s sculpted body.

_Nope nope nope definitely want to nope don’t think about it not here not now nope nope-_

Zarya groaned as Hana stared at the ground, and she was _pretty_ sure her nose started bleeding at that sound. Then the bodybuilder drove the final nail into the coffin. “It was my fault. I will need a shower at this rate.”

As her embarrassment overtook her entirely, as her mind stuck wholly and thoroughly on thoughts of Zarya showering and how much she could help and how much fun that all would be, Hana blurted a laugh and turned away.

_Oh god oh god just clean up and get out of here if I hang around for ten more seconds I will say something so stupid oh god no I need to-_

She did go and grab the bottle, and had planned to wipe or mop up most of the spill, too, but she didn’t have a chance, because _before_ she could do that, her mouth decided to say some things.

“Showers are fun!” _They’d be more fun with two, don’t you think? Shut up! Aaaaaah!_

Clearly, she couldn’t trust herself to be near Zarya anymore. There was a bottle receptacle over near her, but Hana wasn’t sure she could keep herself from _accidentally_ tripping into the bodybuilder and she didn’t want to cause any more of an incident than she already had, so she beelined instead for a receptacle over near the exit door.

Still, she couldn’t shut herself up. “Y- uh, have,” _hot_ “you know,” _wet_ “have fun with it,” _soapy_ “um,” _I could join you_ “s-see you around, ZZ!”

With that and a wave, Hana Song fled the room.

She planned on sprinting all the way to her room, but she only made it halfway down the hallway before her head got all spinny and she had to take a break, leaning over and bracing herself against the wall and panting.

Her mind reeled and she tried to just not pay any attention to it - to just zone out and let it run wherever it wanted to go, while she just desperately tried to stay conscious and not die from all of her blood being forced into her cheeks and head.

“Heya! Whatcha up to, love?”

Hana’s head snapped over at a familiar voice and she pushed herself upright. “Tracer! Didn’t expect to run into you here, haha!”

The brit frowned a little and leaned to the side, glancing behind Hana with a raised eyebrow and then a smirk. Hana turned around. She was standing directly in front of a door. There was a small plaque on it.

It read “Oxton, Lena” and below that, “Tracer”.

Her quarters.

Hana groaned a sigh and covered her face in her hands. She just wanted to get back to her room and pretend that none of today had happened. “Yeah, sorry, anyway, um, I gotta-”

“You alright there, love?” Tracer laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “Looking brighter’n Reinhardt’s nose after a couple gallons of eggnog if you don’t mind me sayin’!”

She laughed and Hana joined in, rubbing her palms into her cheeks and grumbling. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just… ugh, just an idiot, that’s all.”

“Aw, c’mon love,” Tracer nudged her with an elbow, stepping around Hana and pressing a thumb to the lock to open her door. “You’re not an idiot at all!”

“Sometimes I am,” Hana mumbled under her breath.

“Nah,” Tracer protested, calling back over her shoulder as she zipped into the room and starting rifling through drawers. Although why she had drawers, Hana couldn’t guess - it looked like everything was just strewn around the room at random on the floor. “Not that unusual to get a little flustered when a fit bird’s shirtless in front of ya!”

“Ugh, I _know,_ but-” Hana clammed up, wide-eyed, as she realized what Tracer had actually _said._ “...what.”

Giggling, Tracer turned to flash her a wink. “Oh c’mon - you think I’m blind? Trust me, as the resident pretty girls expert,” she gave a little bow, “I think you should know I can recognize a thing or two on the matter!”

“N- wh-” Hana stammered, starting and aborting a few different words, a few different sentences, before settling on a laugh that sounded entirely forced. “Hahahaha! Haha! Ha! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Then she spun on heel and started to speedwalk down the hallway. Not before she heard a whistle and a giggle, though, and Tracer’s voice assuring, “ _Sure_ you don’t, love.”

Hana didn’t stop running until she got into her room, locked the door behind her, and dropped facefirst onto the bed to let out a loud groan that verged on a scream. It was about twenty degrees too hot in her room, and she knew it had nothing at all to do with the thermostat.

Rolling over onto her back, she rubbed at her practically glowing red cheeks.

“Ugh. Hopeless.”

 

\---

 

It was what Zarya would come to think of as “the setup”.

She felt like she might fall over as she stood at the door, anticipation and excitement teaming up to send her heart into overdrive and leave her mind spinning. Her lips pulled into a grin that bordered on painful before she stepped through the door.

There was D.Va, already waiting at the table - of course she was, of course she’d got there early, she had to arrange it all.

Zarya still couldn’t believe it. She _hadn’t_ , when the note had showed up sitting on the floor by the door, but the handwriting was far too familiar. It had to be her.

_ZZ,_

_Mess hall. Tuesday. 8:00 pm. Wear something really nice._

_You don’t want to look shabby for our first date, right?_

_;)_

_Hana_

Ten minutes had passed before she’d been able to see straight again. She read the note fifty times at least, in a row, just circling over it again and again, sure that she was somehow imagining it. That it must have meant something else.

It couldn’t, though. Couldn’t possibly mean anything else - and it was her handwriting, too, Zarya was almost certain of it. The nickname, for starters. She also dotted her i’s in a way that looked halfway between a bunny and a heart.

...and the winking face, too. She loved that one so much she even _said_ it, out loud. It must have been her. It must have been a date. It must have been real.

That had been two days before - four days after “the bottle incident” and a week after “the wrench incident”, and she still couldn’t believe it now two days later.

Tuesday. 8:00 pm.

Rather, 7:54, technically. She didn’t want to be late.

“You’re early,” Hana giggled brightly to her, standing beside the table in a floor-length red gown that glimmered in the candlelight, little golden threads woven through it. It had sleeves that blossomed after the elbow and came to points that hung almost down to her knee, and they had openings that ran from her elbows up to her shoulder, her skin underneath shining in the warm, soft light.

Shining almost as much as her smile, her eyes.

Zarya couldn’t believe it, and she was quite certain in that moment that she’d died and moved on. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied with a grin.

Hana laughed at that, her nose wrinkling up a little as she tipped her head to the side, but she didn’t say anything - just waited for Zarya to come over and join her.

Food was already set on the table, two steaming plates full of what looked like a curry of some sort, which made sense. It smelled delicious, and there was a bottle of wine, too, in the middle of the table. Tablecloth, candles, plates that Zarya couldn’t even imagine the provenance of.

It was so easy to forget that it was still the mess hall.

Not that Zarya spent much time looking around. Her eyes pretty much dwelt on Hana non-stop, and the grin never left her lips as she walked up to the table and they sat down at the same time.

She took a breath, a deep one to say something, but the words never really coalesced - what was there to say? In a moment this perfect, in a situation this gorgeous, she couldn’t hope to measure up. She just held the breath, and held Hana’s gaze, and slowly stretched her hand across the table toward her.

“No, no no you can’t go in there!”

Zarya’s head snapped to the side as she heard Tracer’s voice echoing in one of the side doors - saw a flicker of a hand before the doorway glowed faintly blue and the hand disappeared.

Another voice came, low and gravelly and German. Reinhardt’s voice. “But… I am hungry!”

“Shh! Quiet! And I don’t care!” Tracer hissed. “Go snack somewhere else - it’s reserved! Private function! I made sure Athena sent out a memo to everyone about it - didn’t you get-”

“Yes, I got ze memo,” Reinhardt grumbled, “but my _stomach_ did not!”

 _“Nuts_ to your stomach!”

Zarya chuckled, shaking her head and looking back across the table to Hana. She really wouldn’t have cared if Reinhardt had come in - she wouldn’t have cared if everyone in the world was crammed into the room and they were all shouting and throwing tomatoes; she was having a date with Hana Song and nothing in the world could ruin it.

Still, it was a really sweet romantic gesture, and her eyes glimmered as she met Hana’s gaze in the candlelight and gently took her hand. “You have Tracer acting as a bodyguard? Ha! I would have thought Pharah would be better!”

Hana laughed brightly, snorting a little bit and shaking her head. _“Me?_ Yeah right - now, _you_ have Tracer acting as a bodyguard! I thought you would’ve picked Reinhardt, myself, but I guess you were worried he’d get too hungry?”

Zarya’s face clouded in a frown as she shook her head. “What are you talking about? This was not my plan - you arranged the whole thing!”

Hana’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, the grin leaving her lips as she seemed to stop trying to understand some peculiar joke she didn’t get, and instead started trying to understand something she simply didn’t understand. “What? No I didn’t. You sent me this note and everything!”

“What note?” Zarya raised an eyebrow.

“Well I don’t have it with me!” Hana protested, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t exactly have a lot of pockets in this getup, you know!”

“No, it-” Zarya held up her hands and shook her head, “I didn’t mean to- I only meant…”

Sighing heavily, she dropped her head into her hands, the gears in her mind churning over. It couldn’t have been anything else. It must have been a date. Had she somehow misinterpreted the note? What note could _Hana_ have been talking about, though?

Then it dawned on her. Her eyes widened and she stood, pushing her chair back and holding a finger to her lips. Hana frowned in confusion, and as Zarya held out a hand, she looked down to it for a moment - just a moment - before taking it.

Zarya led her out of her chair, away from the table, and out of the door through which she’d heard voices. They were still there, bickering softly, Reinhardt and Tracer - she could hear them. Then, as she poked her head around the corner, she could _see_ them.

“-but I cannot get _schnitzel_ from ze _vending machines_ ,” Reinhardt groaned.

“Did I bloody ask?” Tracer blurted. “Now look, seriously, get out of here or you’re gonna ruin the surp-”

As Zarya cleared her throat, Tracer cut off abruptly. She was turned away, facing Reinhardt, and she slowly - cringing the whole while - spun on toe to look back at the door with a grimace.

“...bollocks.”

Tracer turned to run and Zarya shot Reinhardt a look. With an apologetic sigh, he reached out and grabbed the brit by the shoulders.

“Leggo!”

“I am sorry, my friend,” Reinhardt’s voice rumbled in his chest. “She beat me in push-ups. I owe her a favour.” He lifted Tracer effortlessly off of her feet, took a few steps forward, and set her down again facing Zarya before raising an eyebrow. “Does this make us even?”

“Until the next time I beat you, old man, yes,” Zarya responded with a smirk, her eyes focused on Tracer’s. “Now, go back to your quarters.”

Reinhardt groaned and hung his head. “Everybody wants me to return to my quarters,” he sighed as he turned and walked back down the corridor.

Zarya stared at Tracer for a long time, making the brit fidget uncomfortably until she snapped. “Okay, I can explain.”

Zarya kept staring, not saying anything.

“...maybe I can’t explain,” Tracer amended with a nervous grin, “but uh, I mean - aren’t you happy? It’s… a date! Just what you’ve both been wanting, yeah?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hana blurted. “I never said anything about liking you - I didn’t tell _anyone_ I promise, I-”

Zarya turned to her in shock, eyes wide, silencing her words. She could barely believe what she’d heard - but after the rest of the night, it made more sense than anything else. “You…” she shrugged a shoulder nervously. “You like me?”

Hana’s eyes widened more, her mouth falling open and half a sound falling out of it, but Zarya shook her head and took her hands, cutting off any backpedaling that might’ve followed. “I like you too, Hana. I was… so excited, thinking we were going to have a date tonight.”

The gamer’s cheeks quickly grew to match her dress as she squeezed gently at Zarya’s hands, a massive grin overtaking her face. “Me too,” she said with a relieved-sounding sigh. “Like, really worried, but also excited.”

“Ha! Me too,” Zarya agreed with a nod.

Hana’s eyes dropped away then for a second, which was a shame, as Zarya very much liked looking into them. One of her heels clicked as she kicked at the floor with a shrug which showed off the beautiful cut-outs in the arms of her dress. “Well… why don’t we still have that date, then? After all, I mean,” she giggled, “Tracer went to all this trouble!”

Zarya nodded, then spun around with a finger extended to reprimand her friend, but there was nobody there.

“Oh, yeah, she ran away a couple minutes ago,” Hana explained with a laugh.

“It was mostly Em’s idea!” Tracer’s voice echoed down the hallway. “She forged the notes _and_ she cooked!”

“Oi!” Another voice which Zarya vaguely recognized as belonging to Tracer’s redheaded girlfriend, also came drifting down the corridor from a corner some way away. “Was not! This whole scheme was yours, love - ever since-”

Zarya sighed a chuckle. She could chase them down, she knew - she wouldn’t be able to catch Tracer, but Emily, perhaps.

Or, she could go have her date.

Squeezing Hana’s hand, she stepped back into the mess hall. “The food did smell good.”

Hana giggled, nodding. “It really did! And hey, um, maybe after this we can watch a movie? I’ve got a really good setup in my room.”

Zarya was sure her cheeks were going to fall off. It was the best thing she’d ever felt. “That sounds perfect.”

 

\---

 

It was what Hana would come to think of as “fate stepping in”.

Fate, or Tracer. Either way.

Four days after “the shirt incident”, she’d opened her door to find a note on the floor. How it got there, she didn’t know - it wasn’t like anybody could have slipped it in. The doors were pneumatic and definitely didn’t have space for a sheet of paper to get shoved under them.

Maybe Athena had let the person in, Hana had thought, but then thoughts had mostly left her head as she flipped the note over and read it.

_Hana,_

_We should date. If you agree, meet me in the mess hall. Tuesday at 2000 hours._

_If you don’t agree? I think I will figure that out around 2030, ha!_

_ZZ_

Her eyes had frozen wide on those final two letters - ZZ. Zarya. It _had_ to be her! Admittedly, Hana did know that she’d _sort of_ shouted out the nickname to the whole mess hall, but this would be way too far to go for a prank.

It had to be Zarya.

Hana didn’t know _how_ , but it had to be, and from that moment forward she didn’t stop grinning. She got a brand-new dress for the occasion - a fan who was a fashion designer always sent her things for red carpets and events; she’d even mentioned their name when she was at the _Hero of my Storm_ premiere, and she had several of their outfits hanging around just in case she needed to jet from Gibraltar to somewhere fancy in a hurry.

One, in particular, she’d been saving for something special. She couldn’t think of anything more special than this, either.

She was practically jittering when she approached the mess hall, way early because she didn’t want to run _any_ risk that Zarya would get the wrong message. She knew she only had one chance at this - one shot, and she had to go big or go home.

There were two people standing by the table, and they looked pretty surprised when Hana walked in.

“Tracer? Emily?”

For a second, they both just looked back owlishly, and then Tracer snapped her fingers. “Darn! She was hoping to keep this bit a secret - uh, Em’s big on parties and offered to help out,” Emily nodded swiftly, smiling and waving, “and uh, I’m here to run interference and stop anyone from intruding! Didn’t expect you here this early love, sorry ‘bout that, uh…”

“Oh, wow!” Hana laughed brightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Wow, I had no idea this was gonna be such a _thing,_ ” _or that so many people were gonna know about it!_

She quickly realized, though, that she didn’t care. She _wanted_ them to know - and it was just Tracer and Emily, anyway.

“You were totally right,” Hana admitted in a mumble as she kicked at the floor.

Tracer giggled. “I know I was, love! Knew it all along, y’know - now go on,” she set down the last fork and glanced over the table before spinning and pulling Hana in for a brief hug, “oh, you have a lovely first date now! Good luck - not that you’ll need it!”

“Thanks,” Hana grinned, feeling a little relieved and waving as Tracer and Emily headed out of the room.

Then there was nothing but waiting.

Waiting, and a bit of worrying, and then maybe some daydreaming. Daydreaming or maybe planning, because suddenly the possibility existed that some of the daydreams might actually _come true._

She’d definitely never expected this one. Candles and wine and what looked like curry, steaming high on plates - it looked gorgeous.

Not as gorgeous as Zarya looked, when she walked in, though. A well-fitted suit that somehow still showed off her arms, and a grin that made Hana’s heart do a flip.

Her eyes flicked for just an instant to the clock on the wall behind Zarya, and then back to the bodybuilder as Hana giggled. “You’re early!”

She couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face - never would have tried, in a million years. Never would have _believed_ in a million years that this might _actually_ happen, but here it was. Happening.

Zarya’s eyes practically glittered in the flickering candlelight, and Hana thought she could look into them forever. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the soldier responded with a grin.

A bit of an odd thing to say, Hana thought, given that she had _planned_ the date. Had her missing it ever been a concern? Or really even a possibility?

Unless maybe she was having second thoughts.

It didn’t look like it, though. Hana’s doubts dissolved instantly at the look in Zarya’s eyes, the sureness with which she stepped over and they slid into their chairs simultaneously. It was a beautiful moment, which she was so happy to be sharing with such a beautiful woman.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hana saw Zarya’s hand stretching out. Her gut squirmed happily, nervously, as she started to return the gesture.

“No, no no you can’t go in there!”

She looked over her shoulder in the direction that she’d heard Tracer from - a little faint, but unmistakeable, and she chuckled softly. It was nice of her friend to run interference, to make sure that they could have a date alone together.

Another voice came, low and gravelly and German. Reinhardt’s voice. “But… I am hungry!”

“Shh! Quiet! And I don’t care!” Tracer hissed. “Go snack somewhere else - it’s reserved! Private function! I made sure Athena sent out a memo to everyone about it - didn’t you get-”

“Yes, I got ze memo,” Reinhardt grumbled, “but my _stomach_ did not!”

 _“Nuts_ to your stomach!”

Hana shook her head a little, grinning back to Zarya as she looked away from the door - she must have been a little bit worried that it was maybe ruining the mood, but that was never a concern. Hana was about to say something to that effect when Zarya took her hand and every word she’d ever heard fell out of her head.

“You have Tracer acting as a bodyguard? Ha! I would have thought Pharah would be better!”

At that, Hana had to laugh - in fairness, Pharah _would_ have been a good pick, but it wasn’t as if it had been her decision to begin with. _“Me?_ Yeah right - now, _you_ have Tracer acting as a bodyguard!”

Shrugging, Hana grinned. “I thought you would’ve picked Reinhardt, myself, but I guess you were worried he’d get too hungry?”

From the sounds of things, an entirely accurate worry.

Zarya’s head shook as a frown clouded her face. “What are you talking about? This was not my plan - you arranged the whole thing!”

 _...uh… I what?_ Hana’s eyes narrowed, as if there was a prank being played on her. _That… couldn’t be what’s happening._

_Could it?_

“What?” She shook her head. “No I didn’t. You sent me this note and everything!”

“What note?” Zarya raised an eyebrow.

“Well I don’t have it with me!” Hana spluttered in protest, throwing her hands in the air. She’d read it about fifty times, she had it memorized by now, but while her designer fan put out some _gorgeous_ work, they weren’t outfits designed to be practical. “I don’t exactly have a lot of pockets in this getup, you know!”

“No, it-” Zarya held out her hands, palms flat, a worried look on her face, “I didn’t mean to- I only meant…”

Zarya sighed and dropped her head into her hands then and Hana was left just to frown and look at her. This couldn’t be some kind of stupid prank - that would be _way_ too cruel. Tracer had even _said_ -

...Tracer.

 _Tracer_ had said it was Zarya’s idea. _Tracer_ had guessed that she liked Zarya in the first place.

Tracer…

...wouldn’t play a prank like this.

Before those thoughts could _really_ reach their logical conclusion, though, Zarya had pushed herself back from the table and stood, and offered a hand to Hana. She looked down at it for a moment.

_Not a prank. A setup. A blind date._

She took Zarya’s offered hand, feeling almost giddy. Zarya had no idea this had been planned - Zarya had just thought that she’d been asked on a date. And she’d said yes. And she’d showed up early, looking so excited and gorgeous in that suit.

Hana felt giddy as the soldier tugged her gently along toward the door that Tracer had left out of earlier - she could still hear the brit out there, and Reinhardt too, bickering softly.

“-but I cannot get _schnitzel_ from ze _vending machines_ ,” Reinhardt groaned.

“Did I bloody ask?” Tracer blurted. “Now look, seriously, get out of here or you’re gonna ruin the surp-”

Hana leaned around Zarya a little to see, because she had a suspicion this was going to be funny.

As Zarya cleared her throat, Tracer cut off abruptly, mid-word. She was turned away, facing Reinhardt, and she slowly - cringing the whole while - spun on toe to look back at the door with a grimace.

“...bollocks.”

Hana waved. Tracer turned to run and Hana saw Zarya’s head nod a little bit. With an apologetic sigh, Reinhardt reached out and grabbed the brit by the shoulders.

“Leggo!”

“I am sorry, my friend,” Reinhardt’s voice rumbled in his chest. “She beat me in push-ups. I owe her a favour.” He lifted Tracer effortlessly off of her feet, took a few steps forward, and set her down again facing Zarya before raising an eyebrow. “Does this make us even?”

“Until the next time I beat you, old man, yes,” Zarya responded, facing away - but from the sound of her voice, Hana could bet she was smirking. “Now, go back to your quarters.”

Reinhardt groaned and hung his head. “Everybody wants me to return to my quarters,” he sighed as he turned and walked back down the corridor.

For a long time, nothing seemed to happen - Zarya stood there with her arms crossed, and Tracer fidgeted. She shot a helpless glance past Zarya’s shoulder to Hana, but Hana only grinned and waved back to her silently.

It really was pretty sweet of her to set this thing up. At the same time, it was kinda funny to watch her squirm.

She did a lot of that, growing increasingly agitated before eventually popping. “Okay, I can explain.”

Tracer looked right at Zarya, but there was no response for a few seconds, and the brit sighed slightly. “...maybe I can’t explain, but uh, I mean - aren’t you happy? It’s… a date! Just what you’ve both been wanting, yeah?” Her eyes flickered toward Hana.

That was a low trick. “I didn’t say anything,” Hana blurted suddenly, reflexively, running with her condition response to just deny it all outwardly “I never said anything about liking you - I didn’t tell _anyone_ I promise, I-”

Slowly, Zarya turned around, revealing a shocked expression - wide eyes and lips just slightly parted, and suddenly all the nervousness came back.

“You…” the soldier shrugged a shoulder nervously as Hana panicked. “You like me?”

Hana’s eyes stretched even wider, her mouth falling open as she started to respond, but only got out the first tiny fragment of a syllable. Tracer flashed her a little salute and turned away, disappearing off down the hallway in short order, but Hana didn’t watch her leave - she stared into Zarya’s eyes instead, panicking lightly.

Zarya took her hands, shaking her head slightly before Hana had the chance to say anything. “I like you too, Hana. I was… so excited, thinking we were going to have a date tonight.”

Heat rushed from her chest to her cheeks, colouring everything in between a nice bright red. “Me too,” she admitted with a sigh of relief. “Like, really worried, but also excited.”

“Ha! Me too,” Zarya agreed with a nod.

She dropped her gaze from Zarya’s eyes then, which was a bit of a shame, but there were still a few lingering nerves, it seemed. Scuffing at the floor with one shoe, Hana shrugged. “Well… why don’t we still have that date, then? After all, I mean,” she giggled, looking back up to grin, “Tracer went to all this trouble!”

Zarya nodded, then spun around as if to confront the brit, but she was of course already gone.

Hana laughed brightly, nodding. “Oh, yeah, she ran away a couple minutes ago.”

“It was mostly Em’s idea!” Tracer’s voice echoed down the hallway. “She forged the notes _and_ she cooked!”

“Oi!” Another voice - Emily’s, of course - drifted around a corner and down the corridor, as well. “Was not! This whole scheme was yours, love - ever since-”

Hana heard a chuckle, Zarya’s, and then the soldier squeezed her hand lightly and turned around, stepping back into the mess hall, and Hana delightedly accompanied. “The food did smell good.”

Giggling, Hana nodded. “It really did!” _Phase one, complete. Time for the combo._ “And hey, um, maybe after this we can watch a movie? I’ve got a really good setup in my room.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Hana’s grin reached whole new levels of magnitude. It really _did_ sound perfect.

 

\---

 

It was a great first date. They’d come to think about it as a million different things, but they weren’t really thinking about that while it was happening or even anytime soon afterward. They were far too occupied with enjoying it.

Laughter and conversation, confessions - when they’d each realized that they liked the other - eating the delicious food and commenting that, while they definitely would _not_ consider hiring Tracer as a bouncer anywhere, it would be worthwhile to hire Emily as a cook.

They cackled over their own follies - from “double-teaming” to “legs”, from dropping the wrench to spilling the soda, they ran through all of the stupid things they’d done and how terribly embarrassed they were, and it was the biggest relief either of them had ever felt.

Throughout the whole dinner, they held hands, grinning constantly. Zarya was a little surprised by how much food Hana ate, and Hana laughed and replied that she’d clearly not met many gamers before. Zarya sheepishly admitted that it was the truth.

When it was all said and done - the wine gone and every scrap of food eaten - Hana stood up and pulled Zarya out of her chair. “C’mon, let’s go watch that movie! They can take care of the cleanup.”

“Aw c’mon,” Tracer whined softly from around a corner somewhere, but Emily rebuked her softly with a tut.

“None of that now, love - we set it up, we can clean it too.”

“GG!” Hana cheered to the ceiling with a giggle, and Zarya joined in with a chuckle, squeezing her hand lightly. It felt perfect, intertwined with hers.

For the most part, her eyes lingered on Hana’s dress swishing around her ankles as she walked, but whenever she noticed the gamer looking over her eyes flicked up to catch her gaze, and she squeezed at her hand a little, and her heart fluttered.

“That was really nice,” Hana murmured with a smirk. “I’m glad we’ve got friends who just butt in where nobody invited them.”

“Ha!” Zarya tossed her head back for a laugh. “True! I never thought I would be thankful for that.”

They came to Hana’s door and she pressed a thumb against the lock, the door sliding open with a hiss and letting her lead the way in. The couch was covered in pillows and stuffed animals, and a _very_ expensive gaming rig filled up the half of the room that normally would’ve housed a bed.

Zarya frowned at that a little as the door slid shut behind her. “Where do you sleep?”

Hana laughed. “Sleep? What’s that?” She turned back with a grin and a wink before tugging Zarya toward the couch. “C’mon, let’s cuddle up.”

The soldier nodded excitedly, gladly stepping over that way. She tried to move some of the stuffed animals out of the way, at first, but then Hana just plopped down on top of them all, so she followed suit.

“What movie are we going to watch?” She turned to Hana with a raised eyebrow, one arm resting along the back of the couch, still stunned by the gamer’s… everything. Everything about her, from her wit to her strength to her eyes to her smile, her skin to her height to her laugh to her jokes.

...and the sudden, tiny, mischievous smirk on her lips as she swept a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mm,” Hana shrugged a shoulder, looking off toward the screen. “I dunno. Don’t really care, honestly.” Her eyes flashed over toward Zarya and her tiny smirk split into a lopsided grin as her heart skipped another beat. It was a risky plan and she knew it, but she’d never been known for playing it safe. “It was just an excuse to lure you back here, anyway - and you fell _right_ into my trap!”

Grinning, Zarya’s eyebrow raised higher. “Oh, I did? What trap is that?” Her hands patted at the couch and the stuffed animals as she shrugged and nodded thoughtfully. “It seems like a pretty comfortable trap, to me!”

Hana giggled and shuffled a little closer, and Zarya’s grin widened by a few degrees. Then, the gamer raised a hand and stroked a thumb along Zarya’s cheekbone, and met her eyes, and the grin froze solid on Zarya’s lips. _Everything_ froze solid, halfway between excitement and confusion and panic, as she stared deep into Hana’s eyes.

They weren’t looking back, though.

It took her a few seconds to realize, but Hana _wasn’t_ looking back into her eyes - she was looking a little bit down from that. Not with her eyes cast down like she was ashamed, or anything like that. Just down a few inches below her eyes, below her nose as well. Just looking at her-

Zarya’s eyes widened a little as her lips, as if hearing their name being called, quirked. “I… think I can guess at the trap now.”

“Oh really?” Hana giggled, leaning back to recline against a large pile of stuffed animals. It was really hard to not just fall forward into the bodybuilder, but you had to be careful not to dive in too far. “Well, what’re you gonna do about it, huh?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “There’s usually a few ways to escape traps, y’know. I hate forced linear gameplay.”

Snickering, Zarya shook her head with determination. “Why would I want to escape this trap?” She shrugged a little. “If I’m right about what it is, of course…”

Hana quirked an eyebrow, giggling and tipping her head left and right. “Mmm, well why don’t you make a guess, then?” _Or a move._

Zarya’s breath burned in her lungs as her grin widened of its own volition - her whole body reacted in concert, moving on half-considered thoughts and partially-recognized impulses. She shifted forward, supporting her weight on one leg and her arm on the back of the couch, freeing up the other hand to stretch out and trace a finger down Hana’s jawline, from just below her earlobe to the tip of her chin.

As she did that, Zarya’s eyes dropped from Hana’s gaze to her lips, focusing long and hard; they were stained a vibrant and pinkish shade of red, not glossy but not exactly matte either, and they twitched - a slight smirk forming and then quickly being overtaken by a wanton movement, a slight parting, a silent plea.

Then words.

“Good guess. You found the trap.” Her lips formed a devious grin. “Now whatcha gonna do about it?”

All of the breath left Zarya’s lungs in a rush, her head light and swirling as her eyes flicked back to Hana’s, and then back down to her lips again. She wasn’t sure that she had ever been this nervous, this scared, this _excited_ in her entire life, as she slowly leaned down overtop of Hana, one finger still resting lightly on her chin.

She stopped just short. An inch away from contact, she slowed to a halt, and had barely enough time to feel Hana’s chuckle before the gamer raised her head to close the distance.

That first instant of contact struck her like a hammer blow to the chest, shocking her heart and shooting ice through every vein, but not in a bad way at all; Hana’s lips were so soft and warm, her skin was the same underneath fingertips. Zarya held perfectly still, not wanting to overstep her bounds and mostly just incapable of thought as Hana held the kiss, held the position, held lips pressed against hers and sighed a breath out of her nose.

Hana’s breath caught in her throat as their lips met. Her neck strained slightly, holding herself up from the pillows and stuffies, but she didn’t care in the slightest; Zarya’s lips were firm but still soft, and with every heavy beat of her heart the heat within her spread further. The breath she had held started to sigh slowly out of her nose as she let every bit of tension and worry fade away.

Nothing to worry about anymore - it was all out there, and it was all good. She knew that Hana liked her, and vice versa - they’d gone on a date, they were kissing, everything was perfect.

Or, nearly, at least.

Hana hadn’t thrown caution to the wind so desperately just to pull up short now. One of her hands rose from the couch, sneaking underneath Zarya’s girder of an arm which supported her against the back of the couch. The hand ghosted along Zarya’s side without contact, snaking around as Hana held the kiss just where it was.

For approximately another two seconds.

Then, she’d had about enough of that. It was a really nice kiss, but it didn’t exactly seem worth all the frustration they’d both been through. Her hand found its destination, fingers running into Zarya’s short hair as Hana let herself fall backward against the couch.

For a moment, it broke their kiss, lips parting - and that was sad, but she didn’t have time to mourn the loss because she pulled Zarya’s head down right after her, tipping her head to the side and parting her lips, seeking out Zarya’s mouth with the tip of her tongue.

Zarya reacted with a surprised moan at first - spurred on by fingers in her hair and sudden movement, pulling her just slightly off-balance and down until she was pressing chest-to-chest against Hana. Her hand shot from the gamer’s chin to the couch behind her head, but she couldn’t push herself back and away and upright, for two reasons.

At first, it was Hana’s hand behind her head, pulling her gently downward. Then, secondly but far more _compelling,_ came a reason in the form of Han’s tongue licking at her lips like a hand softly rapping at a door, entreating entry.

Zarya was more than happy to comply. Another moan flew from her nose, this one not only surprised but enthusiastic as she shifted and let her jaw fall open, her mouth and Hana’s becoming one for a moment. The gamer’s movements were swift and agile as her fingers clenched at Zarya’s hair, pulling her in closer. Zarya was a little surprised to find that Hana wasn’t hesitant in the slightest - she dove in wholeheartedly, heatedly, with a groan. Shifting her chin, tipping her head, everything she could to make the kiss deeper and deeper.

Hana loved the way Zarya felt on top of her - not resting all of her weight, of course, she was holding a fair bit back but the pressure was still delightful. The way it just slightly restricted her breath as she held Zarya’s head in close, twisted her own off to the side and sought out the soldier’s tongue. Her fingers clenched up of their own volition, her heart hammering at the inside of her ribs - she was certain Zarya could feel it even through their respective outfits.

For a heated few moments they held that, breathing in short gasps and sharp moans, every sound muffled in each other’s mouth and every motion tumbling over the others. Hana’s other hand rose to Zarya’s side, fingers curling in against her ribs and drawing an encouraging groan from deep in the soldier’s chest; the arm Zarya supported herself on slid inward underneath Hana’s shoulders, her hand opening to be flat-palmed against the skin uncovered by Hana’s backless dress.

Then, they parted. Panting heavily, eyes burning into each other. With every beat of her heart, Zarya thought she might just collapse. With every beat of hers, Hana thought she might explode.

“I’ve-” Hana swallowed, breaths heaving as she forced her hand in Zarya’s hair to relax a little bit and caress the back of her head. “I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.”

Zarya took a breath to respond, a large one, but the words died on her tongue as she  found herself falling into Hana’s eyes again. So gorgeous from this close - not just the eyes themselves, but everything held in them, too. Every flicker of flame that she now knew burned for her, every shred of pleasure and delight and even the lingering smoke of frustration and pain.

She was many things. She was capable, and she knew it - she could fight, she could lift, she could even _inspire,_ but she knew that in some ways words were not her strong suit. To spur on troops, maybe - but here? Woefully inadequate.

There was no way she could wrap all of her feelings up into some short phrase. Luckily, she thought of something far more fun, instead. Her lips curled into a sharp grin and she chuckled, holding Hana’s gaze.

“...then why did you stop?”

Teasing always had been a fall-back of hers.

There was a brief triumphant moment, where Zarya got to savour the look on Hana’s face. Shock that shifted to a smirk, her eyes half-rolling as her fingers tightened up in Zarya’s hair again, a little giggle escaping her mouth just before Zarya’s would seal it off.

She did have another idea, though. She pushed back, her hand slipping from Hana’s back to her ribs, the other hand latching onto Hana’s other side and pulling her up with a bright yelp that turned into a laugh as Zarya fell over backward and pulled the gamer down on top of her.

Hana laughed as she straddled Zarya’s lap, stroking a hand through her hair and then pulling herself in to meet Zarya’s mouth again with her own, another frantic and frenzied moment that stole away her breath and left every extremity tingling, from her toes to the tips of her ears.

Zarya loved Hana’s weight on her lap, the way she leaned forward and down to kiss her, the hand in her hair - every bit of it, and she returned it. One hand found Hana’s silken hair, stroking through it as Hana chewed at her lip, and then fingers tightened and tugged the gamer’s head gently back, opening up her collarbone for a repayment.

Hana groaned as Zarya’s teeth scraped at her skin and then gasped sharply as the soldier locked down her lips and sucked. Her mind flickered, seeming less like a contiguous whole and more like a series of fragments, a highlight reel; Zarya’s hand in her hair held her whole focus for a split-second, before one of her own hands was raking at the soldier’s side as she grunted, pulling Zarya’s mouth up to meet her again. Her legs tensed up involuntarily, spread on either side of Zarya’s lap; a tremor ran down her back at the thought.

Every thought they’d had, they poured into their frenetic motions. Every longing glance across the mess hall became a handful of hair, every flicker of imagination that they’d refused to believe in became a moan or a gasp at the feeling of each other’s teeth or lips or tongue, every moment of desire poured out of them in every movement.

As she giggled into the soldier’s mouth, Hana stroked the backs of her fingertips down along Zarya’s jaw and wondered why she’d been so afraid to start with. It seemed stupid, here and now when everything was perfect. Her hand slipped back to cup the back of Zarya’s head and hold it a little as she leaned back and just looked at her, just stared into her eyes.

Zarya tried to follow at first, instinctively leaning forward after the focus of her desire - Hana’s lips were so soft and so sweet, and Zarya never wanted to be without them again, but then there was eye contact again and that had always been something that stopped her every thought.

She paused halfway through leaning forward, letting herself relax back into the couch with a sigh. One hand rested on Hana’s hip, the other one stroking lazily up her thigh. Zarya’s eyes caught on something else, flickering down to Hana’s collarbone and a dark spot there. A dark spot which hadn’t been there before.

The motion didn’t go unnoticed, and Hana raised an eyebrow slightly as Zarya met her eyes again. She looked a little bit hesitant, apologetic, but Hana’s lips quirked as her mind’s airy whirling calmed down enough for her to feel that telltale sensation on her neck. She raised a hand and stroked at the spot, the fresh hickey, the sensations slightly numbed by the recently-overstimulated skin.

“Sorry,” Zarya blurted, blushing as she watched Hana’s delicate fingertip trace around the dark spot on her neck. “I- I wa-” She cut off when another finger met her lips.

“Shhh,” Hana urged softly, leaning forward. She peppered a few kisses on Zarya’s jaw, working back toward her ear - but kept her finger on the soldier’s lips. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. I just think it might be fun if we matched.” She giggled softly, tipping her head to the side a little, mouth still only an inch away from Zarya’s ear. “Don’t you?”

Zarya’s eyes rolled back into her head at the words, the warm breath on her ear and down the side of her neck, even the finger still silencing the apologies she wanted to give. It had felt, at first, like a fingerprint smudged on a pristine mirror - she’d never thought to ask herself if the mirror _wanted_ to be smudged, and the idea that Hana liked it fanned on the flames that burned deep in Zarya’s gut as she nodded, letting a slight whine out of her nose.

Hana giggled again, right in her ear, and kissed her gently on the earlobe. “Good,” she whispered, tipping Zarya’s head off to the side with the finger on her lips and dropping her mouth down to the crook of the soldier’s neck. Her other hand slipped to Zarya’s back and dug in nails to her suit jacket as Hana sucked at the skin of her neck - starting off soft but increasing the pressure until Zarya was groaning roughly, her hands clenching tightly onto Hana’s thighs.

The gamer sat up quickly with a giggle, cocking her head to inspect her work - a nice little mark just above Zarya’s collarbone which brought a grin to her lips.

Zarya’s heart somehow found another gear to kick up into - as Hana sat back on her lap, looking down at a fresh mark and grinning goofily, as she raised a finger to touch it. Zarya could still barely believe it was all happening, but she loved the look in Hana’s eyes.

Then they shifted to meet hers, and she felt as if her bones had turned to jelly.

“You can stop being so nervous now,” Hana giggled softly. “It’s cute, but I kinda prefer it when you’re being all strong-willed and everything.”

Zarya chuckled, stroking a hand along Hana’s thigh overtop of her dress. She didn’t really want it to be _overtop_ of her dress, though. She was just worried.

“I… don’t want to go too far,” she admitted with a shrug. “To push too hard.”

“I’m not made of glass,” Hana laughed brightly, resting her hands on Zarya’s shoulders. “Please - do you know what I need to put up with in the limelight? You’re good. You’re not gonna shock me and there’s _no_ way you can be worse than some of the DBs I’ve dealt with. I can say _no_ , you know.”

Zarya chuckled, dropping her eyes and nodding her head softly. “I know - I know you can. I have seen you, seen your strength. It is formidable.”

Still, she hesitated, and started to wonder for a moment whether it was even really about _Hana_ at all. Whether, maybe, it was about herself instead.

Her hand slipped along, her eyes tracking it until it found the slit that ran up the side of Hana’s dress. One finger sought its way through the crack in the fabric, and then another - then, Hana shifted a little, pushed her weight up and raised an inch or two off of Zarya’s lap and her hand slid right in, skin against skin and no fabric in the way, and it was _glorious._

Hana’s neck was perfectly positioned now - as Zarya’s mouth met it again, the gamer tipped her head back with a heavy sigh. “That’s better,” she murmured, then giggled abruptly as Zarya’s hand slid further back and squeezed at her butt. “That’s a _lot_ better!”

“I want you,” Zarya murmured hotly against skin, her words wanton and heavy with lust. “However you would have me, I want you, Hana. I…” Again, words failed her and she abandoned them with a grunt, scraping teeth against collarbone as she squeezed again at the soft skin and firm flesh of Hana’s bottom.

“Me too,” Hana replied in a groan, one hand clenching erratically in Zarya’s hair for a second as the sharp sensation on the skin over her collarbone set her fingers spasming. “Ah! I- I want a shower. Ever since you-”

“The bottle,” Zarya interrupted with half a chuckle, scraping her nails gently down Hana’s exposed back with her other hand. “Good idea, very good, yes.”

She didn’t get up, though - Hana remained straddling her, making no move to leave, as Zarya continued to kiss and suck at her neck. After a few moments, Zarya got the point and chuckled, standing with Hana still in her arms.

The gamer let out a brief half-yelp, half-squeal, legs wrapping around Zarya’s back. She let herself hang a little lower to meet Zarya’s mouth with her own, tipping her head roughly off to the side. She’d been waiting for this for so long, dreaming about this for so long, and it was fairly common knowledge about her that what she wanted, she _got._ Quickly and thoroughly.

Zarya grunted as Hana bit her collarbone - didn’t scrape teeth against the skin, just outright bit her with a growl as she dug fingers into Zarya’s back, but the soldier didn’t complain. How could she complain, when she’d daydreamed about the exact same for hours and hours?

Some part of her had expected that Hana might be softer, more hesitant, when it came to these sorts of matters - but in her opinion, that was clearly a part which paid more attention to stature than to personality, and she was _very_ glad that it had been proved wrong.

She muttered soft encouragements as Hana tugged at the buttons of her shirt, pulling them open one by one and chewing on her earlobe at the same time. Zarya was starting to feel lightheaded - it wasn’t even fifty feet to the shower, all the quarters being laid out the same or as mirror images of each other, but for a moment Zarya wasn’t entirely sure she’d make it that far whilst still conscious.

By the time they made it to the bathroom, Hana had undone the entirety of her shirt and had her arms wrapped around, awkwardly undoing the bra clasp underneath a shirt and a suit jacket - not an ideal situation, but the gamer still managed it in less than ten seconds.

“Impressive,” Zarya instinctively replied in a soft murmur as she set the other woman down.

“Good hands,” Hana smirked, grasping at Zarya’s lapels and pulling her suit jacket off, “and not my first time either.”

“Encouraging,” the soldier murmured again, shimmying her shoulders to help shuck off her upper layers, and they slumped to the floor. Hana’s hands fell to her belt, but Zarya decided to tackle two problems at once - she wrapped her arms around the gamer and reached for the zipper on the back of her dress, tugging it down after releasing the hook clasping it at the top.

Hana gasped as she did, pressing kisses to the upper curves of Zarya’s breasts as she fumbled with the belt and muttered darkly in Korean to herself. She could feel the dress trying to slip off of her, and she _really_ wanted to let it but she also wanted to _win_ and this stupid belt was being a pain in the ass and-

It all happened at once. Her fingers caught on the right motions, the belt flew undone and the buttons and zipper of the pants came apart without even a thought on Hana’s part, and she stepped back with half a gasp and a grin. Her dress and Zarya’s pants hit the ground at exactly the same moment.

So, she hadn’t quite won. They’d _drawn -_  but Hana couldn’t bring herself to care. She was far too happy with the prospects of the post-game party.

Her eyes roamed heatedly over Zarya’s body: firm and sculpted, and gorgeous, like a sculpture out of ancient Greece. Like an ancient sculpture, as well, Zarya wasn’t without her scars and pockmarks - Hana stepped closer, a hands raising to trace a finger softly over some of them. What looked like a stab wound, a series that were definitely bullets, a spattering spray that she recognized as either shrapnel or something burning, either hot or chemical.

Zarya stared openly down at Hana’s body. The pair of them were each only in shoes and panties now, and her eyes hung up on _that_ detail for a definite moment. Hana’s looked like they were spun out of actual gold - but if they were, it wasn’t very much gold at all.

Quickly, though, her eyes were off from there and onto the rest of Hana’s body. Lithe and slim but clearly powerful, smooth muscle in her abdomen and gentle curves to her arms and legs; touches of combat as well - the scar of a laser-lash across her ribs on the left-hand side, a bullet scar on her right thigh, a thin white laceration scar that Zarya had never noticed before across her upper bicep, only about three inches long but unmistakeable.

Then Hana stepped forward, reached out and touched her again, and they collapsed into each other once more. Zarya groaned into the gamer’s mouth as her small hands rose fearlessly, scraping nails at Zarya’s back, and then ribs, and then continued on their path around the front to grasp her breasts. Zarya nodded into their lip-locked kiss, humming some affirmative noise which Hana clearly heard as she squeezed again with half a chuckle, before trailing her hands down the gentle bumps of Zarya’s abdomen.

Hana shivered as Zarya’s hands stroked up her ribs, the sides of the soldier’s thumbs brushing against the side of her breasts before the hands slid inward and cupped them gently, thumbs rolling over her nipples. Goosebumps flowed over her skin as she traced a fingertip in a loose circle around one of Zarya’s abs, and then caught that same fingertip in the band of her panties.

Then, realized something.

She pulled her head back away from Zarya’s seeking mouth, keeping her eyes closed and letting out a disappointed groan. “I hate shoes.”

There was a beat of silent, and then Zarya laughed, shaking her head. Shaking generally, in fact - just slightly, but tremoring all over. Sighing a laugh, she crouched down to untie her shoes.

It was a mistake.

It was hard to feel _bad_ about it, of course, because the mistake was that that put Hana’s practically-nonexistent golden panties directly in front of Zarya’s face, about a foot away as the gamer took half a step back.

Noticing Zarya’s fixed gaze - and the fact that she wasn’t untying her shoes - Hana giggled and hooked a thumb through each side of her one remaining garment, slipping her heels off and kicking them to the side of the room.

Zarya wasn’t sure she’d ever untied a pair of shoes so quickly without looking down at them for even an instant - without blinking, her eyes completely fixated in front of her. Hana started to dance a little, hips bobbing left and right to some tune that played only in her head, and Zarya was entirely captivated by it.

She _threw_ her shoes off to the side where they thumped into the wall, and stood up again abruptly, capturing Hana’s laughing lips with her own as she cupped a hand around the back of the other woman’s head.

Hana moaned softly, suddenly several inches shorter than she’d been and feeling the change in the angle of her head, the stretch of her neck, and she liked it. She reached a hand back blindly, turning on the water as her other hand stroked idly at Zarya’s side and belly, lower and lower and lower.

Zarya strained a groan between clenched teeth, her fingers curling inward involuntarily against Hana’s back as fingers slipped into her panties and swept lower with each side-to-side pass. Her jaw flew open and a gasp escaped as Hana sucked on her neck, timing it for the same moment her hand finally found its target.

The water was hot enough. Neither of them had felt it, but it was definitely hot enough because neither of them were waiting another second to get it.

Hana laughed as Zarya yanked her panties off, and followed them with her own a second later. Hana stepped backward into the shower and didn’t even have time to beckon the other woman with a hand before she was practically jumping in.

A slight repulsion field sprung into place, enough to keep stray water from escaping out into the room, and its appearance lent a slight increase to the goosebumps on Hana’s skin. Not nearly as much as Zarya did, though, pinning her shoulders back against the wall and kissing her roughly, seeking out her tongue before biting at her lip and drawing a plaintive whine from her lips.

“I want you to go first,” Zarya murmured into her ear, holding her back against the wall with one hand while the other started to slide slowly down her side. “Any complaints?”

Hana shook her head wordlessly, gasping soft giggles as Zarya’s fingers tickled at her skin in tandem with the water. “N-none at all,” she managed to get out about two seconds before Zarya’s hand cut off any more words for a while.

Or at least, intelligible words.

Hana groaned, long and low as one of Zarya’s fingers slid firmly along her - she drew out the sound for as long as she could, stretching it into a singular and desperate, “Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyes!” It grew high and sharp at the end, abruptly as Zarya nipped at her earlobe and Hana clutched frantically at a handful of hair.

Zarya chuckled breathlessly, holding Hana against the wall half for fun and half so she could support _herself_ against it too for fear of collapsing. Her blood rushed in her ears, her head spun with every heaved lungful of Hana’s scent, every earful of Hana’s sounds, every slightly salty taste of sweat, every glance downward at glistening wet skin, hers pressed against Hana’s. She groaned as Hana pulled her head back, water splattering against her face and helping to ground her a little bit - good thing, too, because a second later Hana’s mouth met the crook of her neck with _determination_ and Zarya shouted wordlessly at the wall as a hand stroked between her thighs again.

“I thought you were going first!” Zarya exclaimed in half-shock, half-delight, her hand slipping from Hana’s shoulder to the wall behind her.

The gamer met her eyes with hot intensity and a wide grin. “Race me for it,” she insisted in a heated murmur.

Zarya’s eyes widened for an instant, then slid narrow as she smirked. If Hana wanted to make this a competition, well, she wouldn’t complain - and truth be told she thought it _might_ just be one she’d even be happy to lose.

Her arm slid down the wall and she grabbed at Hana’s thigh, tugging it up beside her - the gamer set her foot on the side of the shower tub opposite, giving a perfect angle for Zarya to slowly slip a finger inside.

Hana all but yelled a moan, the hand in Zarya’s hair spasming as her back and neck arched reflexively, pressing her head back against the wall. Two could play at that game, though, and a few seconds later she had a finger buried inside Zarya as well.

Their mouths met in motions _almost_ as frantic as their hands, breath and blood rushing fast and sharp through them both as their free hands sought out every opportunity they could. Zarya grasped at one of Hana’s breasts and pinched the peaked nipple, drawing a sharp cry; Hana scraped nails deeply down Zarya’s back and caught a nipple between her teeth, a dirty trick only available to her because of the height different and one which drew a low string of Russian swears from Zarya’s lips as her fingers wound through Hana’s hair to hold her there.

In the end, neither of them won. Rather, they _both_ won.

Hana’s back spasmed more and more frequently, pulling out from the wall and driving her shoulders backward - Zarya started timing grasps at her breasts or scrapes at her back with the motions, or dropped her mouth to Hana’s exposed neck and latched on with enthusiasm. In turn, Zarya started to shudder, her hands clenching and her muscles standing out in sharp relief as her whole body tensed - Hana took every one of those opportunities to redouble her own efforts, locking eyes with Zarya and grasping desperately at her body.

They both hit the point of no return at the same time - Hana’s head pressed sharply back against the wall, Zarya’s tipped up just slightly, bands of muscles standing out in her neck - but as they did they caught each other’s hair and pulled each other in, screaming their first mutual ecstasy into each other’s mouths.

Zarya’s eyes filled with bright flashes, even though they were closed; every muscle felt like it might just snap and it pressed out every ounce of her breath in a low, growled groan of a moan, delight and want and fulfilment as Hana’s hand worked furiously for another second or two, just enough to ensure that she was well and truly over the edge before beginning to slow down.

Hana’s foot slipped from the side of the bath as her leg spasmed, twitches rolling through her body in waves and spurts - back arching, breaths rushing in and out heavily and swiftly, as Zarya dropped back from a frantic pace to a slow and deliberate gesture that left Hana quivering.

She moaned as Zarya withdrew her hand and she did the same, clasping her hands behind Zarya’s neck and resting her weight off of the bodybuilder’s stable frame for a moment as her muscles continued to twitch lightly. She grinned wide as she met Zarya’s eyes and held them, gazing deep. “GG, ZZ,” she giggled.

Zarya thought her lips might just fly off of her face from grinning so wide. She leaned down, lifting Hana slightly toward her, kissing her softly but deeply for a long precipitous moment before she withdrew. “Very well done. A workout I can get behind,” she chuckled.

“Mmm I think I need a shower after that shower,” Hana sighed, letting her head hang back as she laughed and Zarya joined in.

“Yes! I owe you one, then,” Zarya assured. “Don’t worry. I promise I will pay it back!”

They washed each other slowly, taking time to memorize curves and forms of newly-found expanses, dwelling sometimes on certain scars or marks longer than others - explaining sometimes, what they were and what they meant.

One of Zarya’s, along the back of her shoulder, was from a glass bottle flung at her when she pulled a rioter off of two married men. A slightly knotted line along her side was from an electrical discharge, an experimental weapon the omnics had deployed in Siberia.

Hana spoke about a cluster of small spattered marks, just above her left hip - her mech had been incapacitated in the field, and one of the small slicer omnics had latched on. Though she’d pulled out her light gun and destroyed it, the damage was already done and the molten slag had dripped in and onto her hip, searing instantly through the bodysuit and into her skin.

They chuckled about how far medical science had come, yet scars still persisted. They were less prevalent and less obvious than they had once been, and they were less of a problem as well, but still they lingered.

“I kinda like it though,” Hana admitted with a shrug as she turned off the water and wrung out her hair.

“Oh?” Zarya raised an eyebrow, grabbing a pair of towels and handing one to the gamer. Then, she smirked, as she realized that there were _already_ two towels hung. She’d never been so happy to fall into a trap.

“Yeah! I do - they’re sort of like… badges.” Hana glanced down at her own arm, at a very thin white line which flicked up an inch and a half from the nub of her wrist. “They show what we’ve been through. Little reminders of the victories, and the losses - and they’re both important, you know?”

Chuckling, Zarya nodded, leaning in to kiss her briefly on the lips. “I do, yes. I agree - it is a good point.”

Hana flashed her a grin, roughly toweling off her hair and the rest of herself too. She felt exhausted, but only in the best possible ways.

“C’mon,” she urged, grabbing at Zarya’s hand and tugging her out toward the couch again, pulling a thick blanket out from underneath it. “Hope you weren’t planning on sleeping back at yours tonight.”

“Hoping very much that I would not,” the soldier shook her head with a grin, collapsing onto the couch and laying herself back along it. Hana took her place stretched out along her side, head resting on Zarya’s shoulder, one arm slipped behind her back and the other laying overtop of her belly.

They didn’t fall to sleep for a long time, They had far too much deep breathing and sighing to do, too much stroking at each other’s hair or sides, too much twisting their heads to get in one more kiss before unconsciousness took them. Eventually, they tired enough that sleep found them, though.

It was what they’d both come to think of as “the best night ever” - at least, up until that point.

They both had a lot of hope and a lot of certainty that there would be even better nights yet to come...

**Author's Note:**

> So, there it is! I uh, heh, got a little carried away with it in terms of length; I hadn't really thought much about these two getting together and what it might entail, how they'd interact, and I figured as long as I was pondering that all out I might as well write it down, eh?
> 
> Anyway, it was pretty fun to swap back and forth between their perspectives, get to explore their characters a bit and interactions between each other and with others - generally this one was loads of fun and I really liked it, it ended up being quite cute and silly. So, I hope you liked it too, and I hope you have a great day!


End file.
